Stalking You Always
by Blood Red Kisses
Summary: Cameron is being stalked. Everywhere she goes, she can feel those looming, possessive eyes watching her. But who is her stalker? Is it someone she knows? Or someone she's treated? And what's worse, will her friends be able to save her before it's too late
1. Mine

Hello, people. This is certainly not my first fanfic, but it is the first fic I consider worth anything. And it's my first House, M.D. ficcie. Anyways, this is a little thing that popped right out of my brain a few minutes ago after watching a creepy music video and reading a creepy fanfic. I've wanted to write something for a while, I just never had any good ideas. Hopefully this will turn out decent. If you actually like this, I'd appreciate it greatly if you'd review and tell me. Also, I'm not perfect and I do make mistakes, so constructive criticism is much welcomed. Flames are not...they make me feel depressed and worthless...SO ENJOY!!!

Cameron is being stalked. Everywhere she goes, she can feel those looming, possessive eyes watching her. But who is her stalker? Is it someone she knows? Or someone she's treated? And what's worse, will her friends be able to save her before it's too late?

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She could feel my eyes following her every move. I knew she could. It has been two weeks since I started watching her. Two weeks now she has belonged to me and me alone. Even though I have been aware of her existence for so very long, it was not until recently I was able to watch her. To show her just how much she meant to me. Everythin g about her was exceedingly brilliant. Her beautiful brown hair and the way it curled only the slightest bit, her perfect white teeth she flashes every morning as a greeting, the slightest hint of a strawberry scent around her (be it perfume or shampoo), and the way her eyes change colors with her mood.

I took notice of this first. Emerald green was the color that showed when she found herself in a meloncholly state of mind. Brilliant cerulean blue meant she was contet or even excited. And bright chocolate brown was the color her eyes chose when she was deep in thought. This I saw most often. Until two weeks ago. I learnt of a new color her eyes could change. An unnatural, yet striking, combination of the three previous colors. Her eyes would show this new beautiful shade only when I secretly watched her. It was fear.

Every time I saw her eyes this shade I could not help but feel thrilled, for this exquiset shade was reserved for only me. No one else extracted the rare combination from my princess aside from me. And the shade was reserved only for me to view, for she would not allow herself to experience the fear in front of her co workers and especially not in front of her boss. This pleased me immensly. It was one of many acts the proved to me she was mine and only mine. My Allison Marie Cameron.

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Yeah, I know, it's really short. Well I'm actually writing more as soon as I post this. I wanted to try to leave it at something slightly dramatic and this seemed proper. Not quite a cliffie, but still dramatic enough to leave ya wanting more...I hope. And also, I don't know Cameron's middle name and I'm too lazy to see if there is an official unspoken one for her (Like Wrath in FMA is known as Moofy.) and I think Marie fits nicely with the name Allison, so yeah, deal with it! And I think I'm going to tell the story in several perspectives, so be prepared. Heh, I'll let ya know whose POV it is at the time, so don't worry. Obviously it's now the stalker's POV.

And I honestly have no idea how this fic is going to go, so it could possibly have a higher rating later on. Just remember, if you like the fic, reviews keep me updating!! So please review!!!


	2. Musings of the Mind

Hi, again!! Thank you so much for the reviews!!! I am now posting chapter 2, told from Cameron's POV. Enjoy!!!

And about Cameron's eyes changing color, I have no clue. I have seen Jennifer Morrison with blue eyes in one pic, green in another, and brown in a third pic, but I don't know if she's wearing contacts or her eyes do change. Or maybe it's the lighting. Anyway I just thought it'd be creepy if the stalker noticed something like that because for me, I have to be closer to someone to notice their eye color. Or they have large or bright eyes. Like Hugh!!!

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He's watching me again…I know he is. I can feel his gaze follow me as I walk to my car, his eyes roaming up and down my body. It frightens me, but I have already come to the conclusion I can't do anything about it. Three and a half weeks it has been. I thought of telling one of my co-workers, but after some thought I decided against it. Chase would refuse to leave me alone. He'd decide against my protests to be my personal body guard. Foreman would try to act as older brother and figure out who is stalking me and that would just be too dangerous for him.

Then there was House…not a co-worker, but my boss. I think he'd just smirk at me and make some crack about me not getting enough sleep and being paranoid. As much as I hated the thought of the others trying to protect me, I hated House's reaction the most. His uncaring attitude and sarcastic remarks. They irked me. But as I think about it, he's really not uncaring, he just acts as such. This irks me more. Does he believe showing his true emotions makes him weak? To me, it means you're human.

I even thought of telling Cuddy, my boss's boss. That thought was tossed straight out the window the second it popped into my brain. While she would definitely help, she might make things worse. She'd step up security in the hospital and might even try to get security for my home. Telling the police would be a more intelligent idea than doing nothing, however, I have done my research about stalkers. I took a psychology class in both high school and college. Telling someone, especially the police, pisses the stalker off. Why? Because in their mind, you belong to them. And telling someone ruins that belief. And turns them violent. If they weren't already.

So I have gone over many scenarios in my head of me telling someone, anyone, and none seemed like something I wanted to make a reality. So I have come to the conclusion I must deal with this on my own. Unfortunately for me, I have a hard time dealing with stress. Always have, always will. I used to have a bad habit of cutting in high school. I saw a counselor and she taught me better ways to cope. So far, those better ways aren't really working, but I refuse to allow myself to resort back to my sanctuary of cutting. However much I wish I could.

Thankfully I have made it home and in my door safely. I hate being at home, though. Even here I can feel his eyes watching me. The only place I truly feel safe and he has taken it away from me. Now my safe place is the hospital. Though he still watches me there, it's not as bad. I think he has trouble following me there without looking suspicious. So I have resorted to working overtime, which might not be smart since I do have to go home sometime and the later I stay, the later I go home. Cuddy has confronted me about staying late. I told her I enjoyed my time at the hospital and wished to help out more. She didn't believe me and it was a lame excuse, but I got out of the room faster than she could call me on my lie.

Now I sit here on my sofa in my two bedroom house, television on some station I'm not paying attention to. Three and a half weeks and it's starting to get to me. I always have to have a light on and some sort of noise. Recently, it hasn't been just one light on. Every light in my house is turned on, but I can still see shadows. And I see his, everywhere I turn. The thought of seep scared me, but I was so exhausted. I stretched out on the sofa and pulled the covers firmly over me and tucked them under my chin.

But no, I wasn't allowed to sleep just yet. My eyes fell on an envelope on the floor next to my door. Too scared to move, but knowing I must, I laid there and stared at the small rectangular shape. I usually get my mail in the little box outside my house. So why was this one different? And more importantly, how did it get here? I don't have a mail slot in my door and it's supposed to be airtight so nothing can get through. Did this person have a key to my house? That's impossible. I had three keys made: One for me, one for my parents, and a spare that stayed in my house just in case I couldn't find my key ring before work. My sister didn't even have a key to my house and my parents would call before they came here! So, who?

I forced myself off the warmth of my sofa and into the icy frigidness that seemed to overcome my house in a matter of seconds. I picked up the envelope and stared at it once more. God, I don't want to open it. But I must. And so I did. I pulled out a stack of papers and turned a slight shade of green. I was too shocked to scream. I shuffled through the papers and each one made the bile rise higher in my throat until I could take it no longer. Off to the bathroom to empty my stomach of anything I forced down my throat that day due to the irritating feeling called hunger. If I ever decided to tell someone and, for some ungodly reason, be it House, I certainly have the proof to back up my claims. Oh boy, did I ever…

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This chapter is longer, yay!!! Yeah, don't expect me to update this quick all the time. Currently, it's a Monday that we get off, so I was able to type this up. When I have school again, things may not go this fast. I'd like them to, but they probobly won't. And the whole fic won't be written like this. There will be dialogue in it, I just haven't gotton that far. I'm still kind of explaining things...yeah...

So, you wanna know what her proof is? Wait for the next chapter! It's really creepy!! And review please!! Even if it's a one sentence review. I get really giddy when I receive reviews. They really do motivate me. SO REVIEW PLEASE!!!


	3. Proof

Hello, again!! Once again, thank you for all the reviews!!! I love them all! And they make me so happy! This probably isn't the most amazingly written chapter, but it was very hard to get accross what I imagined in my head. Really difficult to write it down...

Anyways, to **Ithilwenn**: I am terribly sorry, but I can not reveal the gender of the stalker. Cameron just says "His" because the general pronoun is male and she does not know for sure the gender of her stalker.

To **RavennaNightwind**: I love your comments! Reading the review for chapter 2 made me laugh so much! I really did adore your 15 sentence review! And yes, you guessed right. They are pictures. And they were a pain to describe without repeating myself too much...sigh...

So, here's chapter 3! Not told from anyone's perspective! Enjoy!!

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Cameron dropped the papers onto her carpeted floor as she rushed to the bathroom. The papers now lay out for the world to see. Photographs. Around forty or so lay there, menacingly.

The first one was just an innocent picture of her about to get into her car. The next was a close up of her eyes. They were brown then…Then, a close up of her hair. Damp, dark brown locks pulled into a low ponytail at the base of her neck.

They got more personal after this...

Her, eating lunch with Foreman and Chase at the hospital cafeteria. Close up of her enthusiastic grin as she chatted away with the two.

A shot as she got into her car and several shots following that almost like a sick recording that occasionally skipped.

A photo of her in the bathroom at the hospital as she fixed her hair. She could have sworn she was alone that day. Yes, that was one of the few days one of House's comments caused her to cry. She had run to the bathroom to wash the tears away and ended up getting her hair messed up.

The photos continued like this for a total of 20, all showing some scene of her at the hospital or out shopping. Then it got really freaky. There was a shot of her walking into her house. And then one of her locking the door…from the inside. Right about now is when she went to vomit.

The last 20 shots followed these. Her sitting on the sofa reading a magazine and drinking coffee.

There was a photo of her playing with Choco, the kitten she had to give away because she realized she was allergic.

There were photos of her getting into bed and even of her sleeping. She couldn't help but wonder what he did to her as she slept…

The last photo was of her in the shower. She always locked the door to her bathroom when she showered. And she didn't have a window in this bathroom.

All the photos were in some sort of awkward angle.

When she returned from her ten minute vomiting session, she took notice of a small piece of parchment. It was a beautiful shade of lilac and looked as though it would be used by some professional calligrapher. Written on it in the neatest handwriting she had ever seen were these words:

"My Beloved Princess

I am truly sorry that my love for you frightens you, but I will not allow you to belong to anyone aside from me. You are and shall remain mine for all of eternity. I will do anything for you. All you have to do is ask, my beloved.

Love Always

Your Prince"

As she read this, she could not help but let out a little laugh. Her first thought after reading this? "'Love Always' should be changed to 'Stalking You Always'"

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And that is where I got my title from. Yes, I had the letter already planned out. Well, it happening, not what it said...I wanted it to say something different, but this is what came out. Originally it was going to say "Stalking You Always" but most stalkers do not believe they are actually stalking the object of their affection, so it just didn't fit. Therefore Miss Cameron had to state it for me. Or think it...

Anyways, reviews really do make me happy, so keep 'em coming!!!


	4. Living Doll

Hello! Once again another short chapter...I'm sorry, but hopefully they'll be longer when I start having people interact! Which will be soon! I promise! I shall compensate the short chapters with quick updates, though. How about that? Yeah?

So, yes, my stalker is evolving now, gaining more confidance. Cameron is truly starting to belong to him now. And she will soon realize that...BWAHAHAHA!! -Cough cough-

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After reading the letter, I knew for certain I was not safe anywhere. If he got pictures of me inside my own damn house, in my shower, where the hell could I hide. I debated calling the police, since I finally had solid proof; however, that changed when I reached my bedroom.

A beautiful nightgown had been placed at the foot of my bed. It was the same lilac color as the letter and looked like something from an old English fairytale. The gown was floor length and multi-layered with frills sown at the bottom. It was long sleeved and had a V-Shaped neckline that actually wasn't very low. Frills covered the edges here, too. (AN: Think of a long gothic lolita nightgown...or something from Godchild, if anyone reads that manga...)

At first, all I could think was at least he's not a pervert or something, trying to get me in some short, skimpy nightie. Then the realization kicked in. This wasn't there on my bed when I came to bring last night's drinking glass down. That was maybe an hour ago. He was in my house sometime this past hour! My, God! He could still be in my house! I checked my window. Closed but not locked. Which could mean either he left and obviously couldn't lock the window from the outside…or he was still in here, somewhere, waiting.

I decided against putting on the nightgown. It seemed harmless enough, but who knows? Maybe he's still in here and is waiting for me to put it on so he can rape me. Maybe his fantasies involve a modestly dressed victim…not that I wear anything slutty to sleep in…

So I opt for just plopping down on my bed and falling asleep like this. Don't ask HOW I could possibly sleep after seeing those pictures, but somehow I managed. And woke up again at 3:33 A.M. to a very disturbing thing…

First thing that didn't sit right with me is that I was now under the covers. I know I fell asleep ON them. I just know I did. Then I noticed something else. Something eerie. I was now dressed in the lilac nightgown that was once laying on my bed. How?! How the hell did he manage to dress me and position me without waking me? Did he…do anything to me?

I quickly checked myself over in the bathroom. My hair was down, but it seemed more curly than usual. I did have a bow tied around my head, however. There was the slightest hint of black eyeliner around my eyes and mascara. And my fingernails and toenails were painted a deeper purple than the nightie. This really freaked me out. He did all this and I never once woke up! And I don't feel groggy, so I don't think he used a drug on me. Or maybe he used some sort of homemade concoction. Knock me out, but when I wake up, I feel fine. A wave of relief washed over me as I discovered I still had on underwear and I was dry. So, as far as I was concerned, he didn't rape me or anything of the sort.

It seemed, though, that I was his little doll. Yes, I was convinced of it now. He watched me for three weeks so he could figure me out, memorize my habits. Now he was taking it a step further. He would now prove to me I was his. And he'd do with me as he pleased.

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Like I said, he's growing. Or she! Or it!! I shall not reveal the gender!!! For a few more chapters! Or maybe next chapter. Since I have it all planned out, all I have to do is decide when I'm going to put that part in...hmm? Am I that nice? The reviews will decide that, so please, if you may...


	5. Monday

Hi! Sorry for the slower update. I've had a rough couple of days. And no one review, so that kind of got me down. -insert annoying whiney noises here-

Then, I got a review!! Today!! **RavennaNightwind**, thank you some much for your review! You made me happy and got me in the mood to write more. And about the gender thing, it still hasn't been reveald. Not technically. My friend, who is female, prefers to be called "Prince" rather than "Princess" or something like that. Thinking about it, I should have put "Your Knight" instead...but it's too late now. Oh well. And I'm not saying this stalker is female, either. I'm just pointing out, some girls would rather have a guys nickname...But like I said, thanks for your review!! I was afraid no one liked my latest chapter...I'm tellin' ya, I literally run on reviews. Review a lot, and I'll update a lot! It sounds selfish, but I love getting reviews. They make me feel worthwhile. And as I said in an earlier chapter, even one liners make me giddy. I like to know people like my fic.

Anyways, enough rambling...and on to the ficcie!! Told from Cam's POV.

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God, what is that noise? My eyes required some prodding, but I finally got them opened. Oh. Alarm clock. Damn it. Monday, already. 5:30 on a Monday morning. Oh, hear the enthusiasm. At the risk of sounding like Garfield, I hate Mondays. Especially this Monday. I got NO sleep this weekend. Friday night, after the nightgown incident, I had a hard time getting back to sleep. Amazing that I actually did. Saturday morning I took a shower and found some more clothes laying out for me. It's like he wants me to actually be his doll. Or something. Anyways, it was a cute enough outfit, so I decided why not? I wasn't planning on leaving the house anyways. That night, same thing. Pretty little nightdress. Only this time, it was a light blue.

Sunday went about the same as Saturday. Wear his outfit, sit on the sofa, turn on some peaceful music, and read a book about meditation. Very boring weekend, but my "Prince's" courage weakened mine. I'm too afraid to go out and even though I know he can get into my home, somehow I feel safe here. Or safer than I do outside, at least…

But, today is Monday and as much as I hate Monday, I am glad to be able to get back to work. It's good to have something completely distracting to preoccupy my time. So I turned off my alarm clock with its stupid, droning BEEP, BEEP, BEEP and head downstairs to get breakfast. On the bright side, he hasn't started fixing my breakfast.

I sat down and fixed a bowl of cereal. Normally, I'd fix myself eggs and bacon or something, but I'm just too tired to. So, thank God for quick breakfasts! After eating my bowl of Lucky Charms, and not feeling lucky at all, I head back upstairs to change for work.

What I came across is no surprise anymore. Tighter, black jeans, long, studded belt, purple, long sleeved shirt, and a pair of black socks were laying on the edge of my bed. Of course, we can't forget the white undies and bra, now can we? After that first night, I don't want to chance pissing him off. Besides, if I don't wear what he wants, he'll just find a way to make me. So, as usual these past few days, I don't dig in my closet to figure out what to wear. I just quickly change into what he has laid out for me.

I did a quick makeover in my bathroom. Brush hair, brush teeth, quick eyeliner and mascara, little bit of foundation and blush, just a hint of lipstick, and I'm ready for today. Time to go. I grabbed my keys and make it out to my car. I'm a little early for work, but that's ok. That's how I've always liked it.

I arrived at work earlier than Chase and Foreman, as usual, so I started to make coffee. Then House came in. Yay…

"Cameron! How ya been? You look tired. Rough weekend?" He only pretends to care. Unless he was asking in hopes of making some sexual comment afterwards. Whatever it was, I answered before he could continue.

"Yeah," I replied. "You could say that."

"And I thought sex didn't wear you out. After all, you were fine with Chase." And there it went. Oh, well. I just rolled my eyes at him and gave him an If-you-want-coffee-get-it-yourself look, then sat down and waited. Chase and Foreman eventually showed up and House went on about our newest patient. I wasn't listening, I couldn't. I was too deep in thought about my stalker.

"Hey Cam, you there?" Chase prodded my arm. I must have flinched at his touch, because he looked slightly hurt. "Are you ok? "

"Uh, yeah. Just, uh, didn't get much sleep over the weekend. Heh, no big deal." They knew I was hiding something. They always knew. They were like my second family. My very screwed up second family, but still.

"Maybe you should go home and get some sleep. I can see the circles under your eyes from not sleeping. I think that says something." Foreman added in his two cents.

"No!" I all but screamed. They stared. "I-I mean, no. No thank you. I'm fine. Just a little tired, that's all. I'll go home as soon as I've worked my hours and get some rest. Promise." It was a lie, but thankfully this time they didn't catch it. I seemed convincing enough. At least, to my own ears I did.

I ended up staying longer than I anticipated. I expected to stay long, but not until literally midnight. Cuddy caught me just as I was about to run another test on our patient.

"Cameron, what are you still doing here? Does House have you working late again?" She sounded irritated, especially as she said the last part.

"No, I'm on my own time. We have a new patient and I think I know what's wrong, so I decided I'd run one more test to check. Then I was going to head home." I have been practicing my lies in my head all day now. It would do me no good to keep using the same excuse every time someone asked me why I was still here and not at home sleeping. So, while waiting for other test results, I thought up about fifteen good excuses and twenty-two lame ones. This was one of the better ones, and it was true, to an extent. I am on my own time and I did have an idea about the patient, Stan Murray. And I'm currently testing my theory.

But I wasn't going to go home. I'd stay until I got kicked out of the hospital. I didn't want to go home. At home I'm alone. Here, even at night, I had someone to call out to if my stalker decided to pay me a final visit. Cuddy definitely did not seem happy, though.

"Maybe you should head home now. It's midnight. You should be asleep right now. _**I **_should be asleep right now." Emphasis on the 'I' implying her being here this late was not her choice. I sighed.

"You're probably right. The test can wait 'till tomorrow anyways. I'll see ya later, Dr. Cuddy. Good night." I didn't want to leave, but Cuddy was clearly annoyed and starting an argument with someone who's annoyed was not a smart idea. Especially if she's your boss's boss.

So we said our good byes and parted ways. I got into my car and drove home. Arriving home, I found there was no nightgown; however, after my shower, it lay there, quiet and innocent as can be. I put it on and flopped into bed. This was becoming a ritual. But when would it end? Oh God, when would it end?

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I was going to reveal the gender of the stalker, but decided it'd be moving to fast then. And I don't want that...Hopefully you enjoyed my longer-than-normal-but-still-way-too-short-for-its-own-good chapter!! I'm obviously not very good when it comes to diseases and figuring them out, so I'm going to have as very little of that as possible in my fic. It will be mentioned, but never in much detail I'm very sorry about that..sigh.

See y'all next chapter! And don't forget to review!!!


	6. Amethyst

YAY FOR REVIEWS!! All the reviews I have gotton so far have made me so happy! I must sound like a broken record every time I say that, but it's true!

**RavennaNightwind** Her stalker wasn't exactly angry that she was at the hospital for so long, but I can tell you, he wasn't exactly pleased about it either. Heh, heh...

**Jenniedvm **Noooo!! She can't tell anyone about the stalker! Aside from the fact he'd be pissed, it'd hurt the story. Cuz then I'd have to go through this whole thing with the police and security and questions and...and...I'm just too lazy to do that... (Really, I just use the pissed thing as an excuse for my laziness...) Heh, I'm so horrible!

**wiccanwillowrose8** Yay! I have loyal readers! I ish so happy!! (Can you guys tell it's midnight and I'm a bit on the...loony...side?) Thank you so much for the review!! Whoot!

And to anyone else who has reviewed, or will review in the future, thank you so much!! Your reviews go to a much needed boost of motivation!!!

Anyways, another chapter, yet again from Cam's POV. Enjoy!

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It's Friday, again. My week has been…interesting. Tuesday, I tested the theory I had. I was right…for about seven and a half minutes. Our patient collapsed and proved my theory wrong. Wednesday, we continued testing and got no results. That put us all in a bad mood. After three separate arguments, we realized what was wrong. I don't remember exactly how, but someone said something, which acted as a trigger. We tested this out and found out that, yes, Stan Murray did just have the common cold. But wait, our lucky contestant didn't just have the COMMON cold; he had a mutated version of it, which caused him a hell of a lot more problems than it should. I'm glad we figured it out, but the results were kind of irritating. All that time trying to figure it out and it was something as simple as a cold.

So Thursday and today were spent checking up on him and making sure it was just a cold and nothing more. He should be completely better by Monday.

Speaking of today, Friday means no work for two days. Usually that information excites everyone. The weekend acts as a motivator to make it through the week. But not for me. Friday means no protection at the hospital. I hate the idea of being alone for two days. Especially after getting another set of photographs and a necklace in the shape of a heart. The photos were scary. The necklace was beautiful. It was a solid amethyst heart on an amethyst beaded chain. At first I just thought it went along with his apparent fondness of purple, but after a bit of research, I discovered this little article in a book:

"Amethyst

Color: Deep purple to pale lavender.

This stone is excellent for relieving anger, stress, and depression. It relieves insomnia, wards off nightmares, and gives prophetic dreams. Its many magical purposes include love, self-confidence, freedom from addictions, healing, and spiritual guidance."

I couldn't help but wonder just how often he watched me. This past week, I have kind of become an insomniac. I am sleeping, but it's only a few hours a night, and I usually wake up in a cold sweat screaming. I guess he's trying to help me with that. That and my depression.

As soon as I arrived home, I started up the stairs for a quick shower. My sister invited herself over for the weekend and we were going to eat dinner at some restaurant she picked out. I'm a little irritated that she assumed I had nothing to do this weekend; however I also didn't spend too much time protesting. I really did not want to be alone. Any company was welcomed. And I didn't have much say in the matter, so hopefully my stalker won't be too angry.

God, I'm talking about him like he's my newest friend. "Oh, sorry Mister Stalker, I won't be home alone this weekend. My sister's coming over. You don't mind do you? Please try not to kill her." Right...Wait! Kill! The thought didn't cross my mind until now! He might kill her! I don't care anymore what he does to me. I have accepted my fate and the fact that there's nothing I can do. But I'll be damned if I allow the bastard to harm anyone close to me. Especially my little sister!

"Please…don't hurt her. She's my sister…" I found myself whispering into the suddenly thick air. While May May and I have never been real close as children she was still my sister. And I couldn't even imagine what I'd do if my ignorance got her hurt, or killed!

I spent an hour and a half getting ready. It has been almost a year now since we last saw each other (We do talk on the phone quite often, though.) and I figured it was the least I could do to look nice. So I stood in front of my body length mirror and observed myself. Long, black slacks. V-neck short sleeved blue shirt. Thin, black sweater-like jacket. And Black boots. Another outfit my stalker picked out for me. And of course we mustn't forget the necklace. I also had on a thin layer or eyeliner and mascara. Standing there, I thought I looked presentable. Hopefully, so will my sister.

Speak of the Devil and she will come. The doorbell rang just as I finished pulling my hair up into a loose bun. I answered it on the second ring. May had always been impatient, though I was the only one to witness this flaw. For me only would she ring the doorbell until either I answered the door, or my ears started to bleed, whichever came first. As soon as I had the doorknob twisted the door swung open and I had a pair of arms wrapped around me. Her usual greeting.

"ALLY!! How ya been?" She asked in her usual happy-go-luck voice. Not a hint of sadness. I wish I could be that carefree and happy.

"Been better. You?" I tried so hard not to sound tired, but the exhaustion seeped through like smoke from a fire.

"Traffic was a bitch…You-are you sure you're okay?" She only cursed in front of me. Only my ears ever heard how foul her mouth could really be. To mom and dad, she was a saint. She'd never ever say anything bad. It was impossible, unfathomable.

"Yeah. Rough couple of days. You remember me talking about House? My boss? Yeah, he's been giving me a hard time lately." It was another lie, but I couldn't tell her what was really bothering me. Actually, in truth, House has been quite nice to me. Or nicer than usual. Though, he -has- been making cracks about me having a boyfriend and staying up too late with this imaginary boyfriend. But that was really all I got from him this past week. If only it were the truth.

"That bastard. You should file for harassment, ya know? Get him back. Kick his sorry ass using the justice system." Yes, here came that foul mouth. It really isn't that bad, but for someone who constantly is praised for her good behavior, I think she could do better.

"No, no. It's okay. He's not that bad." I really didn't want to get House in trouble. Even if he did sometimes deserve it.

"Sweetie, you obviously haven't been sleeping. Make-up can hide dark circles, but your sister knows an awful lot about make-up. And she certainly know her own sister's naturally beautiful face! And I can tell you're hiding under a LOT of make-up. At least, around your eyes you are." She gave me an all-knowing, yet slightly pitying smile. It was amazing, really, how she managed to mix such contradictory emotions into one small smile. For half a second, I hoped she was my stalker. It's ridiculous, but it might have a happier ending.

"Sleep or no sleep, I don't want to give House any more of a reason t-"

"Oooh, pretty necklace!" She cut me off. She always does that when she gets bored of listening to me. She never does it to anyone else, though. I briefly wondered why. "Where'd ya get it? Your boyfriend give it to you?" I could feel my cheeks turn a slight shade of pink. I had no idea why. If not for the knowledge that my stalker would put the necklace on for me if I didn't, I would even wear it! Well, maybe that's not true. It was a pretty necklace. Beautiful, really.

"AHA! I knew it!! So, is this boyfriend that blond Australian guy you've mentioned? What was it...? Chase! Yeah...ooor…could it be the infamous Greg House? Hmm?"

Wha-?! Okay, Chase might be a good guess for someone in her position, but House?! That was downright insane!! It is true that I used to harbor a not-so-secret-quite-obvious crush on him and I'll admit I sort of still do, but why on God's green Earth would he actually develop a relationship with me? I mean, the one and only date we went on I practically forced him on! It was the only way I'd agree to come back to work. Looking back on it, it was a stupid thing to do, but I was desperate. And he wouldn't even give me a chance.

God, she looked so sly. Like she just figured out some huge secret. I gave her an incredulous look and shook my head no.

"Awww!! Really?" She pouted. She always was adorable when she pouted. Like a nine-year-old just denied candy. Or a kicked puppy. I don't know. But it was cute. "That sucks…so, who is he? Hmm? And don't tell me you bought this for yourself. I know you and you don't buy jewelry for yourself often."

"It's from…" I racked my brain for something, anything, to tell her. I couldn't exactly say it's from my stalker. Unless I was completely joking. Right now, though, I don't think she'd take it as a joke. So I said the best, and only, thing that came into my head. "It's from a close friend."

"Must be more than 'friend' to have given you something that beautiful and expensive looking." She mumbled.

"What was that?" I asked edgily.

"Nothing, nothing!!" She held her hands up in an 'I surrender' manner. I gave her a small smile.

"So, what's for dinner?"

"You'll see!!!" She grinned at me showing off her perfect teeth. She then grabbed my hand and pulled me towards her car. I guess I'd see when we got there. Whatever it was, I hoped it wasn't seafood.

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Another slightly long, yet still kind of short chapter!! Yay! It was going to be longer, but it's now midnight and I'm sleepy. So I decided I'd cut this short and post this chapter tonight. I'll be done with the continuation of the weekend sometime tomorrow and I'll post it then. Sorry! And yes, the amethyst thing is actually real. The description came from a book called Everyday Magic by Dorothy Morrison. It's actually quite interesting.

I like the idea of Cameron either being a middle child or having at least one sibling. I decided it'd be more fun to give her a practiacally-perfect-in-every-possible-way little sister. Yay! More will be revealed about her sis, May, later. For now, try not to think of her as a Mary Sue. Really, she's only here to give Cameron some weekend interaction, seeing as she's not exactly going to go clothes shopping with House anytime soon...Yeah, that's a scary thought... O.o

REVIEW, PLEASE!!


	7. Out and About

Hi!! Sorry, everyone! I meant to update sooner today, but I'm such a looser and didn't...You see, I recently got a game I've wanted for two years now called Grandia 3. I loved the second one so much, I wanted the third. But first, I didn't have a PS2 and then I could never find the game...so I just got it yesterday. And I've been playing it all day today...heh heh...I'M SORRY!!

**RavennaNightwind** Yes, yay for new chapters!! And I love amethyst as well, so it was cool finding that out for me too. Actually, it was nifty finding out what each of my favorite stones meant. Why not seafood? I don't know. I need some way to finalize that chapter and it was just the first food that popped into my little pea brain. I personally love seafood...and hate what they actually are eating...

**cryingblacktears** thanks! Yeah, that song creeps me out so much, but I adore it to no ends! I'm a weird little cookie...

**wiccanwillowrose8** You'll see about the work thing. IF anyone finds out! MWAHAHA! I have (most) everything planned out!!! And you have to wait to find out!! HAHAHAcoughcoughHA! Yeah...

I love me my reviews! Yesh. So, once again, Cam's POV. I think it'll be her POV from now on. So, unless noted, things shall be told from Cameron's perspective from now on! And this chapter might have a spoiler in it if you haven't see all of House. I think it'd be from season three, but I honestly don't remember which season it occured in.

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By God's good grace, we did not arrive at a seafood place, but instead an Italian place. Olive Garden to be more specific. I ended up getting the Cheese Ravioli while May ordered Chicken Alfredo.

"How are Mom and Dad?" I asked as a conversation starter.

"Ah, they're good. Still arguing about the television, though. Mom says normal Cable is all they need while Dad wants the new TiVo thing. I have to agree with Dad. TiVo rocks. Hopefully, Mom will one day see that."

I had to smile at that. My parents argued over EVERYTHING! But it wasn't in a mean way. It was in that old, married couple way. Even when they were young. I honestly have no idea how they stayed married for thirty-seven years and dated four years before that.

"And how's college going?"

"Aaargh! Why'd you bring THAT up?" She wrinkled her nose. "It's a pain! My professors think I'm some kind of work machine, so they give me extra reports! I'm not failing anything, though!!" Of course not. You've never failed anything your whole life. "Straight A's for this little teacher's pet!" At least she acknowledged she was a kiss-up. Not that I'm bitter or anything! Never!

"So, enough about me! How has your job been going? Aside from your jerk of a boss, House. How's the Australian cutie?" She grinned when she mentioned Chase. Sometimes I wondered just how much she liked him.

"We just cured another patient. He had the common cold. We couldn't figure it out for a few days because it had mutated so bad. Needless to say, when we figured out it was just a cold, we about wanted to kick ourselves." I completely ignored her comment on Chase. Maybe she won't notice.

"That sucks. That you couldn't figure it out for a while, I mean. It's good that you cured the dude. So, what of that Doctor Chase?" Damn, she noticed. Oh, well.

"How should I know? It's not exactly as if we're best friends or anything."

"But you dated him for a while, right?"

"More like a one night stand. That evolved into three or four nights…" More like we used each other for sex. Something I'm not proud of. That's why I ended it. That, and he started to fall for me.

"Yeah, so anyways. How. Has. He. Been?" She said each word separately.

"Good."

"Elaborate."

"May! I don't know! He has a girlfriend now. At least I think she's his girlfriend." She eyed me. "She's always showing up at the hospital in the waiting room. And he leaves with her on occasion."

"Name?" I shrugged. She rolled her eyes. "It's no fun to gossip with you." I sighed. She was more fun to shop with than eat with. At least I had that to look forward to.

"So, how's your food?"

"Delicious! I love this place!" I nodded ina 'me, too' manner.

Our night continued like this. I hate eating with her. I always feel like I'm being interrogated. But like I said before, she's a blast to shop with. When we finished, I paid for dinner and we drove back home. I showed her the guest room she'd be staying in. We watched a bit of television before I finally told her goodnight and headed upstairs.

Of course, there was another nightgown lying on my bed. A long, flowy pink gown with spaghetti straps. I washed up and changed. Hopefully with my sister here, I might sleep better.

Saturday morning I was awoken from a nice, peaceful sleep. By my sister. It took me a while to actually get to sleep. I couldn't help but think what if he attacked her? But once I fell asleep, I fell deep into that sleep. Until 7:43 A.M.

"Wha is it..?" I slurred.

"Where are your pans located? I looked in three cabinets already…" She sounded sorry about waking me.

"Under the stove…there's a little drawer there that I keep 'em in…" I rubbed my eyes and sat up. A deep yawn escaped my mouth.

"Oooooh!! I see! I'm sorry! Didn't want to wake you, but I was hungry…Hey, that's a pretty nightgown!! Where'd you buy it?" She took notice of the gown when I stood up and stretched. I figured I'm already awake, why not go ahead and get ready? One of the straps had fallen off my shoulder though and I had to readjust it.

"Don't 'member." I hate talking when I first get up for one main reason. I can't speak properly.

"Hmm. Maybe we'll see one just like it when we go shopping today!! Then our nighties can match! Yay!" God, how was she such a morning person. On the weekdays when I have to work, I force myself to be a happy morning person. But really, I hate mornings. I'm real irritable and snappy. Sometimes. I can hold my tongue, though. Which is what I did on weekdays. And now.

"Yeah. Match. Uh-huh." Yawn. She smiled at me and ran back downstairs. To fix herself breakfast, I supposed.

It took me almost an hour to get ready. When I have things planned for a certain day, I tend to get ready before I eat breakfast. I showered again because it would help me wake up. Or so I hoped. The scalding hot water made it very hard to get out of the shower. It was so cold in my room compared to the shower…But I made myself get out. Then I got dressed. He left me a real cute outfit today. I guess he knows I'm going shopping. Well, of course he does. I put on the tight blue jeans that flared at the bottom and the black halter top with pink and blue floral print. It really was a cute outfit. After applying the little bit of make-up I wear, I walked downstairs to eat breakfast.

"OMG, Alison, you look so cute!" Yes, she actually said 'OMG'. I smiled at her compliment and the use of chat speak outside the computer world.

"Thanks."

"I made bacon! And, yes, I did remember to leave you some." She grinned. As children, she'd always take all the bacon and I'd complain. As adults, we joke about who ate all the bacon or who will eat it all. I grinned back and took a bite of bacon.

"Mom makes it better." I jokingly crinkle my nose. Mom does make it better, but this is still really good.

"Don't complain. I didn't HAVE to save you any." She washed off her plate and started up the stairs. "Eat fast! Cuz I'll be dressed and down in five. Unlike you, miss slowpoke."

By the time she came back down, I was about done. I don't usually eat that much for breakfast. I grabbed my purse and my keys and we started for the car. We drove and talked for a good forty-five minutes before we arrived in the little shopping villa. I parked the car and we got out.

"Where do you want to go first?" I asked her. I lived forty-five minutes away, she lived three and a half hours; I could come here whenever I wanted. I thought it seemed fair to let her direct where we go.

"I dunno. How about…Kohl's! I love that place!"

"Kohl's it is, then!" We walked down to Kohl's and looked around.

"What do you think of this?" May held spaghetti strapped short red dress up to herself and spun around. I smiled at her.

"Cute, but kind of slutty."

"Perfect! There's a guy in my Lit class I'm interested in. He doesn't notice me at all, so I'm hoping maybe something like this will get his attention."

"Wow, you're not desperate, are you, little miss slut?" I laughed. It felt so good to laugh.

"Shut up!" She thwapped my arm. She tried so hard to glare at me, but failed and let out a cute giggle. We kept looking around Kohl's and eventually we ended up spending around $200 each. Like I said, blast at shopping.

At my request, we carried our six or seven bags into Barns and Noble. I was hoping to find a book about stalkers. I found one, but not the kind I wanted. We left and looked around the huge circle of stores.

"Where to next?" May sounded slightly impatient.

"I don't know. You decide. You're the guest he-" I was cut off when I bumped into someone. The force knocked me over. I let out a small "Ow" and rubbed my head. Then I looked up to see who it was I so carelessly ran unto. It was a man of about twenty-five with shoulder length black hair. He wore a black shirt and black baggy pants.

"I'm so sorry! Here, let me help y-" I stopped as I saw he was carrying a camera. He jumped up immediately and quickly walked away, muttering something under his breath that sounded like sorry. I don't know why I suddenly froze up when I saw the camera. Lots of people around here are carrying them. I don't know, but he certainly was creepy.

"What a jerk!" My sister exclaimed. "You could at least apologize! JERK!" She called after him.

"May, it's okay. He did mumble an apology. And I'm fine."

"You sure?" I nodded. "Man, what a creep. Did you see what was in his bag?" At the shake of my head, she elaborated. "Nightgowns. Really skimpy women's nighties. And some girl's nighties. He also had some condoms and a few sex toys. Jeeze! Hopefully it's all for the wife, though!" She sniggered. "Or boyfriend." How on Earth did my sister notice all that in the span of three or four seconds? But what she said did frighten me a bit. The guy gave me the creeps. Maybe it's paranoia, but I wonder if he could be my stalker.

"Anyways, was there anywhere specific you wanted to go?" I shook my head no, again. "Weeeell, how do you feel about lunch?"

"I could eat."

"Alrighty, then. Pizza Hut!" We made our way to Pizza Hut and ate. Afterwards, we continued shopping a bit. We came across a quaint little music store closer to night.

"Oh, can we stop here? I've wanted to get the new Linkin Park CD for forever! Minutes to Midnight, I think! I love that one song..umm…What I've Done! Yeah! How 'bout you?"

"Yeah, it's pretty neat." I had heard the song on the radio once or twice. I didn't care too terribly much for the band, but they did have interesting music. May bought her CD and I bought an Avril CD and we headed home, listening to Linkin Park the whole way.

Sunday came and went too fast. We spent the day playing cards and watching movies. That night, she had to leave. I was really sorry about it, too. We had a decently fun weekend. Actually, it was the most fun I'd had in a LOOONG time. And she made me feel safer here at home. I wasn't alone. But I knew she was going to leave Sunday when she first arrived, so what can I do? We said our goodbyes and exchanged I love yous and she drove off. And I was alone once more.

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Ok, so, you all are probably confused as to when this is set. To be perfectly honest, I don't know. I'm just taking things I remember from episodes and sticking them in at random. So think of it as sort of an AU with moments from the series thrown in at random. And, the spoiler warning from the top is for Cam and Chase's little rounds. Again, not too sure which season it was, but my brain says three. I also think they're dating in the newest season, but I don't care! They broke up in my little world and Chase has a little girlfriend that will probably never been seen or mentioned again!

Oh and I do not live in Jersey and I've never been there, so I have no clue what all is located there or even what it looks like. And I'm way too lazy to do much research. So please, don't fault me if I had some wonky descriptions there. The little shopping villa is something I've seen in Sedona, Arizona; Vegas and Virginia, so that's where I came up with that. Of course the three were all very different from eahc other, but anyways. I did look up the Oliva Garden menues, though!! Go me!

Review, please!! You know you want toooooooo!


	8. Breakdown

**TRIGGER WARNING! THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS CUTTING!!**

I AM SO SORRY!!! It has been about a week now! I had bad writer's block!!! Kind of...In the beginning, I had a stalker planned out...then **Ithilwenn **just HAD to ask if the stalker is male or female...(I'm not mad at you, BTW. This might end up making the fic better.) Well, that got me thinking and I had a major debate on who the stalker should be! God, it was horrid! I'm still not sure, but I am sure of the gender. Kind of...SIGH, I don't know. If y'all aren't too angry at me may I ask you to vote on it? Voting DOES NOT mean I'll choose the one with the highest votes, but it'll help a bit more. It'll tell me what you guys would like to see. Because there's nothing worse than a cool fic with a bad ending. So, vote out of these please (Or add your own view, if you'd like..):

House

Cuddy (Been ruled out by family, but if you're interested, she still has a chance.)

Chase

Wilson

Foreman

Original Character (If you choose this, I have an OC I could make it. Or you can choose someone from another show or even from an anime. I'm very flexible currently...)

And like I said, if you have anyone else you'd like to vote for that's not in the list, go ahead. These are just the options I thought of. If you want a chara and this chappie doesn't fit them, I can always rewrite it. I live to please! Plus, I may be writing, but y'all are reading this. I can imagine anything happening, and so can y'all, but if there's something you'd like to happen in this, feel free to ask.

**wiccanwillowrose8**- I might take you up on that bouncing ideas offer. As for now, I think I've got most stuff planned out...except, of course, who this stalker person is. Heh, heh. I knew when I first started writing this! Hmph!

Thanks to everyone else who reviewed as well. And thank you for your patience!!!

**TRIGGER WARNING!!! CONTAINS CUTTING!!! BE ADVISED!!! DON'T SAY I DIDN'T WARN YOU!!! BECAUSE I DID!! TWICE!!!**

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------There is a reason I hate Mondays!! Damn alarm clock never went off!! I'm late for work! By an hour! GOD!

Not ten minutes ago, I felt someone shake me awake and whispered for me to wake up. When my eyes finally opened, no one was there. But even as a whisper, the voice sounded so gentle. Was that really the voice of my stalker? Or just my imagination? Anyways, I looked at the clock and it read the undeniably red numbers of 8:42 A.M. Needless to say, I was PISSED!

I don't think I've ever gotten ready so fast! I never got my morning shower, either. But luckily, I didn't have to search for clothes. They were laid out neatly on my bed. Blue overalls and a green long sleeved shirt.

I ran out of my house so fast, I didn't even get to eat breakfast. And ten minutes later, I arrived at the Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, no shower, bed-hair, and in overalls. Man, I must have been a mess. I knew I looked like I just crawled out of bed, which I almost literally did. And said as much when House questioned me, rather irritably. Both of us were irritable.

"House, let it go! I'll make you coffee now if you still want it. My crap alarm clock decided not to wake me." I growled at him. He can be an ass sometimes, well, all the time, but hopefully he knew when to drop a subject.

"Buy a new alarm clock and get to work on time, then. And if it didn't wake you, how'd you get up?" Or maybe I was wrong in that assumption. I just glared at him. When he opened his mouth to add to that comment, I actually growled at him. Chase and Foreman gave me a weary look. House decided to take the hint and closed his mouth. I was grateful for this and started making my "Famous Coffee". Really, I don't know why the three boys loved my coffee so much, but they did.

"So, new patient, Celia somethin'-or-other. So far, symptoms include," He began writing on his white board, "weight loss, muscle weakness, and fatigue."

"Hip cancer?" Chase took a wild guess.

"Already been tested for cancer. If it were that easy, Cuddy wouldn't have begged me to take the case." He smirked. Like she'd beg him to do anything. I sighed.

"Has she been tested for AIDS?" I threw out there. The symptoms thus far were kind of vague. This could be just about anything.

"Not yet. Why don't you do that?" He suggested.

I stood up and headed out the door. I could hear Chase and Foreman still suggesting random diagnoses and House shooting them down. I doubted she had AIDS, but hey, the symptoms fit. Well, the symptoms also fit about fifty other diseases, too. I entered the girl's room. According to her file, she was twenty-three. She looked more like twelve.

"Hello, Miss Rynolds. I'm Dr. Cameron. How are you feeling?" I smiled at her.

"Kind of hungry." She looked so tired, but so young. When she smiled back, she really looked twelve.

"I know this might be personal, but your symptoms are kind of vague as of now. There are countless diseases you could have. So, we're exploring every possibility." She nodded. "One thing we've come up with is AIDS. We're going to quickly te-"

"That's not possible." She cut me off. I was taken aback.

"And why not Miss Rynolds?"

"Celia, please." She gave a quick nod, and then looked at her bed sheets. She seemed to be considering something, maybe how to phrase her next statement. She then looked me directly in the eyes. "It's not possible, Doctor, because I've never had sex. I've never even kissed anyone aside from family." This was a bit of a shock. I nodded to her, though.

"I see. I guess we could rule out AIDS, then. But I should still test you, just to be safe." She gave me a wry smile.

"You don't believe me. No one ever does. You can test me if you wish. I have nothing to hide in that department." She shrugged her permission. I took a sample of her blood and headed back to the diagnosing room. House was still there with Chase.

"Where's Foreman?" My curiosity had set in.

He's gone to test her for cirrhosis of the liver." Chase explained.

"Somehow, I doubt she's a drinker."

"Why's that?" House piped in.

"Oh." His question startled me. I hadn't even realized I said that out loud. "Just the way she acts. I don't know, she just seems….I don't know… but unless she's lying, she can't have AIDS." House and Chase both looked to me to elaborate. "She's never kissed anyone, let alone had sex."

"So she claims." Chase snorted. I guess he's taking up House's "Everyone lies" theory. For some reason, I believe the girl. It could have something to do with the fact that she looks twelve, but she seems truthful. I headed off to complete the test.

Some three or four hours later, we ruled out AIDS, Cirrhosis, infectious diarrhea, Leukemia, and Vibrio. The three of us sat in silence as we waited for House to arrive. Another two hours and he never showed up, so we decided to go home. Usually, I'd stay really late, but I already had a bad day and I just wanted to go home and sleep. If sleep was even a possibility…

--

I flew up out of my bed in a frozen sweat. I gasped for breath, heart racing as though I had just run a marathon at full speed. I noticed my bed sheets were soaked in sweat. I sat there, trying to calm my breathing, as I recalled the nightmare.

I was in a black room, so dark I couldn't see anything. Then, a pair of eyes broke through the darkness. They looked bright blue, but I think that was just the light that shown with them. They were so cruel and hateful, those eyes. They frightened me. They whispered to me, too. They told me I belonged to them. The person who owned those eyes owned me as well. There was no changing that. I was then being chased. I didn't see who was chasing me or if I actually WAS being chased or if I was just running, under the delusion something was after me. Either way, I tripped and fell. Everything in front of me was suddenly white. But behind me was blackness that seeped towards me. I tried to keep running, but the blackness took a hold of my leg. It wouldn't let me get up; it wouldn't let me go. I was then belted to a table. I can't remember if I had on clothes or not; I just remember the never ending screaming as someone walked closer and closer to me, a cruel smirk on the face. All I could see was the cruel smile; everything else was blackened out. I figured it was because I didn't know what my stalker looked like. But I woke up before anything really happened.

I pulled the covers up to my face and cried into them, afraid, now more than ever, of what was to become of me. I froze as warm arms wrapped around my bare shoulders. I heard a shushing noise and I wanted to scream right then and there.

"It's okay. I won't hurt you, Alison." It was a whisper, so I was unable to tell if the person was male or female. "Don't worry. It's your Prince." At that I tensed up. He was here. He was finally done toying with me. He was ready to rape me and be done with it. Tears slid down my cheeks as I hoped it'd just be quick.

"Why are you crying, Princess? You know I'd never harm you. And I'll never, ever allow anyone else to harm you, either." He sounded so far away as this was said. It was almost as if he had drifted off into another world. I struggled against his grasp. I needed to get away! I had to!

His arms tightened around me as he leaned down and nuzzled my cheek. I could feel his hot breath.

"Tell me about your nightmare, my dear." One arm stayed wrapped around my shoulders while the other stroked my hair.

"I-I don't remember…" I wanted to scream for him to leave me alone, but that might anger him. So far, it doesn't seem like he's going to hurt me. But I've been wrong before. He seemed to smile, though.

"I see. You do not have to tell me if you wish not to." He rubbed his face against mine and smiled further. "You are my precious, little Butterfly. Call on me if you ever need me. I'll do anything for you." His lips brushed my temple and he seemed to disappear. I took a deep breath and held my hands out. They shook with a fury only true terror could bring. But I was alive. And I hadn't been raped. Why won't he just do it? I can't stand not knowing anymore! Why won't you rip the wings out of your sweet, little butterfly, already!!

I grabbed the pair of scissors out of my dresser drawer next to the bed and dragged the blade hard against my wrist. He may not have hurt me this time, but he's bolder now. He has no problem touching me while I'm awake. I can't stand the thought of what's next! The tears continued as I watched small traces of blood force their way out of the shallow cut. Despite the pressure I put into the cut, these scissors aren't very sharp. But I need to bleed again.

I dug through the bag I carry to work and found a scalpel I could use instead. I pressed cold metal to warm flesh. I shook with unease as I carved the word 'idiot' into my arm. Blood dripped heavily from the gashes, but at the moment I didn't care.

"WHY?!" I screamed. I wrapped my arms around myself and dug my nails in deep. I stayed like this for maybe an hour or so; the wailing soon faded into crying and then to quiet sobs. I felt sympathetic eyes watching as I finally started to calm down. He was still watching! Did he not have anything better to do than torment me?! It was about then the blood loss started to affect me. I guess the slashes were deeper than I thought. I felt myself say something before falling over. Warm arms caught me and then all was black…

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I know, sucky chapter. But I still have minor writer's block...And I felt bad for not updating for a week. I am sorry, again...for not updating until now AND for the craptastic chapter. Please foregive me! I can rewrite it if anyone wants me to! It's no problem. I don't like this chapter much anyways...sigh...

No one can get mad at me for the cutting because I put up two trigger warnings. And I'm sorry to anyone who doesn't like the cutting idea, but if I were in Cam's situation, I'd react a lot more violently. I might have offed myself in the very beginning...And, yes, I am obsessed with Wings of a Butterfly by HIM. I ADORE that song so much and I listened to it while I wrote this, so I HAD to make a reference. Mweheheh.

Be proud though! I actually looked up a disease for this chick! Yay! I listed a bunch of symptoms and came up with about 52 results. I decided on one and used the others as guesses for the charries. I didn't put too much effort into it, though, so if there are mistakes, kindly ignore them. You can send me criticism if you want. It's always nice to learn about diseases, but just know, I didn't try any harder than typing in symptoms and choosing a random disease. But it's better than a mutated cold, right? Heh.

Please review!!! And don't forget to vote!

House comes on tonight!!! WHOOOOOT!!!!!


	9. Butterfly Kisses

Hello! I can not apologize enough about how long this has taken!!!! I'M SOOOOO SORRY!!!! My laptop had busted after only a month and a half!! So, I've been living off my mom's computer for two weeks. (Getting it only long enough to check my email) We thought we fixed mine and that's how I got my fanfic back (I have an external hard drive and transferred it over to that. Best thing I EVER invested in. HIGHLY RECOMMEND GETTING ONE!), but I had to restart the stupid thing and it screwed up again...It's still messed up...God, it's painful not having a computer...But I managed to steal my brother's laptop tonight and I got this typed up. Like I said about the last chapter, it's not as good as I'd like it to be, but it's all I got right now...

And thank you for all the reviews I've gotten!! I love them all and thanks to you guys I have decided who the stalker is! But you won't know for a little while longer!! I love you!!! Hehe! And since I know who the stalker is, I had to change something in the first chapter. It's just one little sentence, so don't worry too much. Instead of knowing her for only a year, the stalker has known her for a while. It's nothing major, I just needed to change that for the story to make sense later on...

By the way, to those who think Cam overreacted last chapter, maybe she did, may she didn't, but it is explained in this chapter. I had planned on her having a mental breakdown sometime soon and then hating herself later for being so stupid. But one way or another, she's a bit out of character this chapter, so I am sorry to those who may get irritated...

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Where am I? Everything is black. And I feel as though I was hit by a Mack Truck. I had to force my eyes open, as if they were recently super glued shut. I blinked, rubbed my eyes, blinked again, and looked around. I was in my room, under a different comforter than I vaguely remembered when this morning's events rushed back to my memory. I covered my mouth and swallowed as the bile made its way up my esophagus.

After calming myself down again, I looked at my left arm. It was wrapped up in scarlet stained white bandages and pinned right at my wrist with a safety pin. I guess either my arm never stopped bleeding, or I had rammed it into something during the night. Despite the fear, I couldn't help but appreciate the fact that my stalker cared enough to bandage me up. Although, a small part of me wanted to tear the bandages off and add a few more slashes.

I tried to stand up, but ended up falling right back on my bed. I felt really dizzy, but I guess it's understandable. I did loose quite a bit of blood. Less than I would have liked then, but more than I liked now. I stood back up and steadied myself on my dresser. (Conveniently placed right next to my bed.) Slowly, but surely, I made my way to the bathroom. Looking into my full-bodied mirror, I saw the wretched mess that was me. I wore nothing but an oversized T-shirt that I would correctly guess he changed me into after I doused my nightgown in blood.

I had to cringe at the rest of the figure that stood there. So small; so fragile. I knew I had lost a little weight this past month and a half, but I didn't realize just how much. My arms were pixie thin, as were my legs, and my face was a bit thinner than normal. I lifted up the shirt and took notice of the lack of stomach fat. Nearly every person has stomach fat, no matter how little it is, it's still stomach fat. I had virtually none. I hated looking this unhealthily thin, (I mean, according to Chase I already was a twig) but it's difficult to eat when you can feel someone watching your every move. I am amazed, however, that House has yet to make any comments about my thinness. Maybe he thinks I'm anorexic and he doesn't want to deal with it.

And, of course, what paranoid, stalked, near insomniac is complete without puffy, dark circles under their eyes?

I decided I had to eat breakfast this morning, even if I had to force it down. It was ridiculous how thin I allowed myself to become.

I turned on the water in my shower and waited to it to get hot. I then pulled off the shirt, unwrapped my bandages, and stepped into the scorching hot, almost relaxing shower. I stared at the word carved into my left arm. "Idiot." Was I an idiot? Of course. I have been stalked for over a month now and I've done nothing to prevent it. I had a chance to tell someone, but I never did. And now it's too late. If this whole stalking thing ends up with me being raped or killed, it's my own damned fault. I deserved it.

But as I thought about everything, I realized that maybe I had overreacted. I mean, I'm usually quite calm in any situation. Why was this any different? After all, he has yet to physically harm me. Recalling the only physical encounter I had with him this morning, he seemed to genuinely care. Like his only intentions were relieving me of my nightmare. And if I hadn't freaked out, that might have worked. I guess I could justify my actions by the fact that I have bottled everything that has happened this past month up inside me. The reason I can stay calm in other situations is either I have ranted to someone already, or I can rant to someone later. I have to tell someone, though. It helps calm me. And it helps rationalize things. Because, usually, I vent to May, and she'll point out certain things I missed or choose to ignore. But I have been unable to tell anyone. And that, I suppose, is what drove me to my little mental breakdown.

Even still, I can't help but think what an idiot I truely am...

Eventually, my hot water started to die on me. I turned it off and grabbed my towel. As I entered my room, low-and-behold, black slacks and a black, long-sleeved turtle neck laid waiting for someone to claim them. I put on everything except the shirt. I do have to rewrap my arm. Can't go to work with the word Idiot carved into my arm. Well, I could, but the results would be disastrous. I grabbed some gauze and a tube of Neosporin from my medicine cabinet. Wincing as I held out my arm, I noticed little droplets of blood were still forming towards the center of each gash. Did I really slash my arm so deep that it was STILL bleeding? I turned on the cold water on my faucet.

The icy cold water slowed and stopped the bleeding. I dried my arm off with a clean towel and put the Neosporin on. Then, gently, I wrapped the gauze around the wound and pinned it with the safety pin my stalker had used. I hoped it wouldn't continue to bleed and put on the turtle neck.

Somehow, I found myself downstairs and in the kitchen. I may not necessarily be excessively hungry now, but I do need to eat. I grabbed a frying pan, turned on my stove, and procedded to fix scrambled eggs, bacon, and pancakes. I even toasted three pieces of bread. I sat down at the end of my empty table and began eating. Despite my earlier thoughts of having to eat something, I only managed to force down one egg, half a slice of toast, two bites of a pancake, and one piece of bacon. Such a large meal, huh? I really did intend to eat most of what I made; I knew I couldn't eat all of it, but I'd eat most. That, obviously, never happened. I didn't want to waste the rest of a good meal, so I put each item in its own container and decided maybe Foreman, Chase, or House would want it. None of the three were very good breakfast cooks. Well, Foreman, could make decent bacon, but that's all I've tasted of his. Hopefully, though, they hadn't decided to be different this morning and eat a large breakfast. I really didn't want this to be wasted…

Dressed and ready for work, I grabbed my keys and started towards the door. Something, however, forced me to stop where I was. There was something lodged in the very back of my subconscious that was now being forced to my attention. He has told me twice, now, that if I ever wanted or needed something, he'd do it for me. I briefly wondered if this was true. Not knowing what compulsed me to do what I was about to do, I smiled and opened my mouth.

"You have told me twice that you'd do anything for me. I'm not so sure I believe you. So, prove it to me. Today for lunch, I think I'd like a cheeseburger from McDonald's. If you really mean what you say, I should see one waiting for me at my usual lunch table in the hospital's cafeteria." What possessed me to ask such a thing? I do not know. Why a cheeseburger? It was a relatively simple task that only cost a few dollars. Would he do it? I'd find out at lunch.

- - -

I arrived at work, early as usual. I placed my containers of food on the table and began making coffee. Whether they'd want the food or not, I knew they'd definitely want the coffee. I know my boys. Yes, my boys. I've known them long enough and my God, I'm beginning to sound like my stalker. Maybe I should stop thinking about him…

About twenty minutes later, my two companions joined me. Both of them looked like they just got back from an all expenses paid vacation in hell. Not that I could look any better, though…I set two cups of coffee down in front of them and offered them the containers.

"Not sure if you're still hungry, but I made breakfast." They both looked at the containers, nodded their approval, and began eating. I smiled, happy that they were hungry. Ten minutes later, House pushed the door open with his cane. He raised a questioning eyebrow at me upon seeing the food.

"I made a huge breakfast this morning and ended up not eating it all. I was kind of hoping you guys might enjoy it. You seem to love my coffee enough." I smiled and handed him his cup. I'm not sure why, but I was especially chipper this morning. Maybe my breakdown was a necessity after all. Like just crying after having a bad day. Only a little more extreme...The gashes still ached somewhat, but they seemed to have been exactly what I needed to go back to my normal, cheerful self. He stared at me skeptically, but nodded nontheless. Still standing, he grabbed a piece of bacon and inspected it.

"It's not poison, is it?" I had to gesture over to Foreman and Chase.

"They're still alive, are they not?" He sniffed the bacon.

"The poison could take a few minutes to kick in…hmm…I don't smell almonds, so unless you found a way to cover up the smell, I doubt it's cyanide." Oh, yes. Because I'd really be able to get my hands on Cyanide. Just walk into a chemical store and ask, 'Hey, ya got a little CN. Ya know, cyanide. I need it to poison my boss-I mean, kill rats.' Actually, poisoning House was becoming more and more likely each day I knew him. He could be such an ass, sometimes. But, I'm the one who fell for the bastard, so what does that say about me?

Either the smell got to him, or he decided he really wanted to taste my cooking. Whatever the reason, he finally took a bite of the bacon.

"Not bad…You make coffee, you cook, you knit, you clean. Are you any good in bed, Oh Great Housewife Cameron?" He glanced over at Chase and then back to me. I stared at him increduously. One of these days, I will file for sexual harassment. One of these days….

And being called a housewife?! Really, now!

"So, any news on the patient?" I knew he really wasn't interested. Her symptoms so far were so common, they could have been just the common cold. But, thanks to our last patient, we knew better. Celia Rynolds was just another sick person to House. She was not unique at all and therefore did not fit into House's neat little Rubik's cube.

"We have tested her for several diseases. All of which were negative." Foreman informed House. I sighed. This irked me. We spent all day yesterday testing her and we have learned nothing. It was worse than a needle in a haystack, because, at least with that, eventually you'd feel a sting and ah-hah! There's the needle, poking you in the butt, rather painfully. I half hoped she'd develop some new and unique symptom, but that would be cruel.

We began guessing randomly, because, really, what else could we do? We got nowhere, even with House aiding us. I had visited Celia's room twice now: Once to get a blood sample, and once just to chat, to find out more about her. Maybe that would help us figure out whatever she had. Doubtful, but it was worth a try.

Eventually, lunchtime came. House left abruptly, probably to go complain to Cuddy about getting such a boring patient. God knows he's complained enough to us about it.

I wasn't very hungry right now; the fact that we still didn't have the faintest idea about this woman's illness had killed any appetite I might have once had. But my feet still led me to the cafeteria. I hadn't a clue why, until I looked towards the table I usually claimed as mine. There, sitting so innocently a friend could have put it there, was a McDonald's bag. Jaw open and morbid curiosity taking over, I found myself walking to the table and picked up the bag. A folded piece of paper lay in between a neatly wrapped cheeseburger and several containers. I gently lifted the note out, as if it would detonate any second now. Written, yet again in the neatest handwriting I'd ever seen, was:

"Princess,

You asked for a cheeseburger this morning and here it is. You may not believe that I'd do anything for you, but I will. I'm always listening and I'm always willing. You are my Princess and I am your princely servant. However, seeing as, in all the time I've known you, I have never witnessed you eating a cheeseburger, I had no idea what you wanted on it. So, I asked for everything in separate containers. I hope everything is to your liking. And, as always, if you ever need anything, don't hesitate to ask me.

Forever Yours"

I was somwhat frightened that he was actually there this morning, listening to me. It was also frightening that he actually would do anything for me. For as frightening as it was, I was touched. He went through the trouble of doing this for me when I was only joking. So, of course I owed it to him to eat the grease covered death-trap. And if it turned out to be poisoned, for whatever reason, I was in a hospital. Either someone would be able to cure me, or I was dead. And if the second one, at least then I'd be released from this nightmare.

So I added some ketchup and mustard, placed the pickles in a semi-orderly style around the bun, put some lettuce on, and set a tomato right in the center. I then sighed, whispered a thank-you, and took a bite. It was delicious, but so nauseating. I haven't eaten something so filled with grease in a long time. I got through four bites before my nauseous stomach could take in no more. I'm so hungry, but at the same time, I'm really not. My depression must have been quite obvious because just then, I felt a comforting hand firmly grasp my shoulder. I jumped and tensed up considerably. Why would he be here when there are so many others watching?

"Cameron, are you feeling okay?" The voice I heard both shocked and relieved me and I visibly sighed that relief. But after that sigh came a series of small giggles. It's like when you're scared to death in a movie and then it turns out to be nothing. The scary music sounds, guy opens door, and nothing's there. I had to giggle. I was so relieved that the comforting hand on my shoulder and the voice that just spoke to me was not my stalker, but the wonderful man who was able to put up with House for so very long.

"Wilson!" I let out another small giggle. His concerned look deepened. "Yeah! I'm fine. I just haven't been sleeping as well as I'd like. Heh, long week, I guess." His brow furrowed and he slowly nodded.

"It's only Tuesday." He informed me.

"Yes, I know. But with no progress here at work and hell braking loose at home I-" I snapped my mouth shut right then. I can't-won't-let anyone know about my stalker. No matter what, I told myself it was too late to be saved. And because of that, everyone needs to believe everything has been as normal as ever in my home.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He took a seat beside me. I shook my head no.

"There's nothing to talk about. My AC and water heater broke. I can't take hot showers and I can't have cool nights. That's all." I quickly lied. Hey, I'm getting pretty good at this lying on the spot thing.

"Of, course. You know, I could come take a look, if you want. I've worked on these things before. I'm no professional, but it wouldn't hurt." His offer was sweet, but because I was lying, it was a definite no. Now, if only I had some excuse as to why not.

"Don't worry about it, Wilson. I've got someone coming to check it out later. But thank you for your offer." I smiled at him. I knew he knew I was lying. But he can't exactly call me on it. It's not as if he's been to my house. It's not as if he knows for absolute certain I'm lying. He just suspects. "So if that's all?" I started to stand up.

"Wait a second, please. There was something else I wanted to ask you about." I sat back down and looked at him curiously. "I know it's none of my business and I shouldn't even bring it up, but I'm really worried about you. And I'm not the only one. Even though he doesn't show it, House is also worried. He complains about it enough. Cuddy has noticed too, but she doesn't know how to ask you…so I figured I'd just…" His eyes were focused on the ground, but he took a moment to look up at me. And noticed how utterly confused I looked. Confusion wasn't the only thing I felt. I was worried everyone had found out about my secret stalker. For a moment, I hoped they did. Then, maybe they could help me.

"I'm sorry, I'm rambling. Uh, well, I don't mean to offend you when I say this…but you've been looking awfully thin lately..." His voice drifted off when he noticed the look of disbelief on my face. All the stuttering and stumbling and what? For this? Something that wasn't even an issue. The anger burned inside me. I'm not sure why this made me so angry. Maybe I just expected so much more.

"I am NOT anorexic if that's what you're getting at!" He stared at me with pitying eyes. This pissed me off further.

"I'm not accusing you; I'm just making a comment. I, as well as the others, have been concer-"

"Then why have they not confronted me about it? If they're so damned worried, they should ask me themselves! Not rant to others until YOU confront me!" I had cut him off. I shouldn't be so angry. I'm usually so calm. Usually, I'd shrug it off and make some remark about them paying too much attention to me. But now? I don't know. I guess what made me mad is the fact that I was just wondering this morning why no one has asked me about my weight and now I find out that they've noticed, but been too chicken or something to actually ask.

"Maybe they haven't confronted you because they knew you'd react like this." His nonchalant shrug made me glare at him. "But House has been complaining, which is his way of being concerned, so I figured you had the right to know."

"Why would House be concerned," I nearly spat the word out, "about ME?" None of this was Wilson's fault, but the words tore out of me. Right now, I just wanted to cry. I was taking my anger out on someone who didn't deserve it. I, personally, blame everything on hormones…

"Like I said, I'm just the messenger. I am worried about you, but this is your business. I just wanted to make sure you realized how much thinner you are now." As if to make his point, he wrapped long fingers around my tiny wrist. He was right. His thumb reached the first joint on his index finger. Even in my own eyes, that was a cause for worry. However, when he grabbed my arm, he unfortunately grabbed my left arm. My slashed up arm. The pain was nearly unbearable. I winced and jerked my arm back with a force stronger than I intended. On the bright side, though, I was able to refrain from crying out.

"Cameron, are you okay?!" The concern in his voice made me look up at him. He looked truly sorry. I nodded at him.

"Mmm. I just knocked my arm hard on the wall yesterday. No big deal." I grasped my arm tight and felt the warmth of blood. Damn! How deep could I have slashed for my arm to still be bleeding nearly nine hours later?! Well, I'll definitely try to think out the consequences next time I have a breakdown! Wilson's eyes widened considerably as he stared at my arm.

"Cameron…what happened?" I followed his gaze down to my blood soaked doctor's jacket. A string of mental curses followed the gaze as well. I forced a smile at him.

"Like I said, banged my arm." I then stood and ran as fast as I could to the nearest bathroom, hiding my left sleeve.

"Hello? Anyone in here?" I called out once the door to the bathrooms closed. No one responded and the stalls all seemed to be open and empty. I pulled off my jacket and yanked up the sleeve of my black turtle neck. I must have whacked my arm earlier, because there was way too much blood soaking the bandages for Wilson to have caused this. "Damn it! Why?!" Now I'd have to explain to Wilson why the sleeve of my lab coat was soaked in blood. I spilled the patient's blood? I tripped and cut my arm? I was gutting goats for my Satanic ritual to the Almighty Lucifer?

I don't know! Nothing was good enough. Nothing made sense! Actually, that last one might work. Heh, right.

I unwrapped the bandages and, sure enough, my arm bled like a struck pig. What the hell? Were my veins really that close to the surface of my skin, just like a pig's? Or was God punishing me for something I've done or something I will do very soon?

'Idiot' was still there, carved on my arm. Well, of course it was. Did I actually think it was going to disappear, like I had never done it? This was only one of the consequences I would suffer because of my stupidity.

I held my arm under running cold water for a good ten minutes before the bleeding once again stopped. When would it stop for good? The tears silently flowed as I ran my fingers over the deep cuts. Yes, they hurt. But I've hurt worse before. Once, I actually ended up in the hospital. If May hadn't found me, I might have died. That was the last time I cut. Until now, of course. There was a reason I had allowed a therapist to help me.

I yanked my sleeve down quickly when I heard the door open. My hands shook as I stared into the mirror, willing whoever was in here to leave immediately. They didn't. In fact, warm arms wrapped themselves around my shoulders and, even though I knew it was only Wilson, I was distinctly reminded of earlier this morning. For that reason, and many others, I stiffened.

"Oh, Allison, do you really believe that?" His voice was soft and caring. And the use of my first name comforted me.

"What? That I'm an idiot?" I let out a bitter laugh and more tears streamed down my cheeks. "Of course. And it's true. And also none of your concern." Though it was nice that he seemed to care, I did not want to get him involved in my problem.

"Allison, I'm so sorry. What on Earth could make you think that?" His embrace tightened. However, I gently elbowed him back and moved away from him.

"Like I said, this is none of your concern. It has nothing to do with you, so please, just leave me be." My voice was cold, my tone was icy. He was a sweet guy and I hate to be so cold, but this was my problem. And I'd deal with it on my own.

I grabbed my coat and briskly left the bathroom. I checked by House's office and found him sitting in his chair bouncing a blue ball against the wall with his cane.

"I'm leaving for the day. I might take tomorrow off as well. I'm not feel-"

"I don't care what you take off, but you have to show up Friday night." I just stared at him. "Valentine's day? Mandatory social event? Remember? God, you can't have forgotten already! I've been complaining about it all week. Anyways, Cuddy says whoever doesn't show up is in biiiig trouble. Mommy knows best, huh?" He loved to mock Cuddy. And right now, I didn't mind. Just what I needed. A mandatory Valentine's Day party.

I let out a small growl, nodded at House, and just left. I drove home and let me say, I'm amazed I didn't crash. Tears, anger, and driving are not the best combination.

Once I arrived home, I slammed the front door. God, what was wrong with me?! This morning I was in such a good mood! Then Wilson had to mention my weight! And what the hell is up with him hugging me? I understand he was trying to comfort me, but couldn't he see I didn't want him there?!

Or did I?

Maybe I did want him there. Maybe I did want him to worry. Maybe I even wanted him to follow me home to make sure I was okay, to even comfort me in his own special way…

No. No, no, no! If I wanted all that, it was only out of the need for comfort. And that's exactly why I had slept with Chase so many times. Comfort, and one other reason…It was never Chase I was screwing. Well, it was, but it wasn't Chase that I saw. It was House. Guilt is the actual reason I broke it off with him. And on some level, maybe my brain recognizes that House and Wilson are best friends, so if I can have Wilson, I can eventually get House. Which is wrong! Both morally, and logically! And, I'm supposed to be over House. It was supposed to be a school girl crush! I'm not supposed to feel this way about someone who's such a jerk to me.

And all this going on while I'm being stalked.

I sighed and leaned back on my sofa. How are things going to turn out? I can't have any type of relationship while I have someone who believes I'm his and only his. That's just begging for trouble. But what of my mysterious stalker? Who exactly is he? Do I know him? Is he even a he? Most stalkers are male, but there are a select few female stalkers. And apparently a female stalker's victim will most likely also be female.

I was just about to turn on the television when my doorbell rang. What? Was it him? But why?

I walked over to the door and looked through the peep hole. Sure enough, it was him. No, I don't want this. It can only end badly. But something compelled me to open my door anyways. I stared at him with as little emotion as I could muster.

"Why are you here?" My voice was a monotonous black hole.

"I was worried about you. After seeing your arm," he winced ever so slightly. I just stared, keeping the emotion I actually felt hidden from my face. "I was afraid you might…" Once again he trailed off.

"Why won't you just go away? Can't you see, I don't want you here?" My front was ruined when my voice cracked. I mentally berated myself for not being stronger.

"I can't just leave you. If you…" He couldn't actually say it. "It'd be my fault. I knew and I didn't do anything? I'd never forgive myself. And House would never forgive me, either." Everything came back to House. It always did.

"I won't try to off myself. Okay?" He just stared at me, with this look that nearly screamed 'How can you be so casual about this?!' I gave him a bitter smile and held out my pinky. "Pinky promise." I really did not know why I was so…morbid. But I hoped that by acting this way, he'd leave.

"Allison, it's not that simple! Those…gashes…were extremely deep! This is not child's play, and you know it." I bit my lower lip and stepped to the side to let him in. I was getting nowhere. He wasn't going to leave me, even if I chose to slam the door right in his face. He'd find some other way to pester me. He really was too nice for his own good…

"So, what happened? Why would you do such a thing to yourself?" My eyes found a sudden interest in my carpet. I stared at each pale blue fiber for as long as I could before Wilson got annoyed with me. "Well?"

Licking up the small bits of blood that had formed from chewing on my lip, I opened my mouth to speak. I then chickened out and shut it again.

"Allison…" His irritation irked me. I didn't have to tell him anything! This was my business, after all!

"I've just been having a rough time lately! Everyone does!"

"But not everyone deals with the rough times like that." He glanced at my wrist.

"No, some people actually succeed." I retorted, icily. He seemed taken aback by this and his expression changed from annoyance back to the sweet worry. I remained as cold as I could.

"I'm sorry. I am. I just-I don't understand. Allison, you're usually the calm, level-headed one. This is something I just never expected to see. I never dreamed I'd one day have to comfort you. Of all people, I believed you were the one who could take care of yourself." Though he meant no harm, his words cut me deeper than the scalpel had cut me this morning. I felt as if he was saying I wasn't human. Everyone needs to be taken care of. No matter how strong they appear to be. I assumed he could see the hurt in my eyes because he quickly apologized.

"I'm saying all the wrong things, aren't I?"

"Yes, you are." This time, my tone was more pained than icy.

"Look, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I didn't mean to upset you." I just nodded at him and focused my attention back on the floor. This lasted only a few seconds before warm hands cupped my chin and his lips crashed against mine. At first I was shocked, but a moment later I found myself kissing back. Everything that had been bothering me was pushed to the back of my mind as I felt layers of clothing being gently pulled off and warm, soothing hands roaming my body. The pain ebbed away, if only for a little while.

See? I knew this would end badly.

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Yay for long chapters! And developing relationships! If you don't like the pairing, no worries. This probably won't last very long. But then again, why should I reveal that to you? If I keep up the suspense, you guys will hopefully keep reading!

As I said before, Cam's a little out of character (And quite random, I noticed as I reread this...) and so is Wilson, but really, most of this was typed out without me actually thinking about it. I'm just ecstatic I actually finished this chapter. And I'm so very sorry it has taken so long...

I'm really not keeping up with which days are what and what time of year it is right now in the fic. But I had a Valentine inspiration, so in the fic, Friday is Valentine's Day, okay. Deal with it. As I say to my friend, I am the authoress and if I wanted Cameron to suddenly sprout wings and fly away, so be it, I have the power to do so!!! Just as you have the power to stop reading this if you suddenly hate it...but that would make me very sad...

Reviews motivate me to write more! And when I have writer's block, they make me feel guilty enough to force myself to get over the writer's block and write anyways!!!


	10. Morning After

Hi again! Guess what? My laptop has been fixed!!! WHOOOT!!! Which means, even though this is a short chapter, you will get more chapters more frequently! I promise!!! And thank you so much for all the reviews!!!

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Warmth…

That's all I felt right now. Comforting warmth.

My eyes were closed, but just barely, and I could feel a content smile on my face. Warm arms wrapped themselves around me as I snuggled closer to the body they belonged to. All the worry had disappeared; everything that could possibly go wrong was now impossible. I felt those warm arms shift and hands ran themselves through my hair.

"You awake?" he whispered gently into my ear. I just smiled and pretended to be asleep. When he started to move away, I rolled over and shot him a questioning look. "We have work today." He told me so matter-a-factly.

"I know…" I wrapped my arms around his waist. "But I don't wanna." I pouted. Whether he slept with me out of pity or he actually loved me, I wasn't sure. But either way, I didn't want to go to work, I didn't want House to bug me, and I didn't want this peaceful moment to end.

"You don't have to go, Al, but I do." My heart skipped a beat when he called me "Al". It sort of implies a relationship. But…I'm not sure if that's what I want. I really don't know WHAT I want…

"Why? Call in sick." I nuzzled close to him and purred.

"Wouldn't it be suspicious if we both missed work?" Damn!

"I guess….but I don't want you to leave." I allowed my tongue to slip out and flicked it along his ribs. I could hear him let out a little moan.

"Al, I really should get ready…" I sighed then continued, feeling a bit more confident in what I was doing.

"You can be late." And with that, we were at it again…

---

After about three more rounds, we were both showered, dressed, and he was off to work. I had called in sick earlier. It was quite convincing, too. I coughed a little, pretended to attempt to open a pill bottle, and even forced myself to vomit, which sucked, but House needed proof. I'm sure he doesn't believe me, though.

Now what?

Usually, I'd be at work. Wilson and I both couldn't show up late. Nor could we both skip work. He told me he'd try to convince House he came to check on me. And I was really sick. I knew it wouldn't work, but who cares? Not much I can do now. I'll just ride it out.

It was really empty and quiet now with him gone. Things certainly didn't go how I'd prefer them to go. I'm just waiting for the horrid consequence. I can only pray Wilson will be okay. God! I should have warned him I was dangerous. Now his life is on the line.

Wait…maybe. Just maybe.

"Please don't kill him. I do care about him. And if you care about me, you won't kill him." I summoned as much confidence as I had for that last sentence, hoping with all my heart he was listening.

I lazed around the rest of the day. Television was boring, I have already read all the books I currently owned, and I can't go to the library right now. If House called, he'd expect me to answer. Even if I WAS sick and I was sleeping, he'd still expect an answer…

What does one do on a Wednesday?

Sleeping was the best option…Up the stairs again, into PJ's, and under the covers. I was out like a burned up light bulb.

I awoke around 10:30 that night to my cell phone ringing.

"…'Ello?" I yawned.

"Stop pretending. I know about you and Wilson shackin' up." Of course it was House.

"Let it go…Why'd you call 'nyways." I was slurring bad. Well, I just woke up; what do you expect? It seemed to take him forever to respond.

"So, you don't deny it?" He sounded like he'd just won some big prize. I was tempted to hang up on him.

"How's Celia?"

"Trying to change the subject, are we? First you were in loooove with me. Then you boinked Chased, now Wilson. Who's next? Cuddy. God, I'd love to see that." I'm sure he began some other sentence, but I'd never know for sure. The phone was shut and thrown across my floor. I mumbled, rolled over, and fell back into a deep sleep. I wouldn't realize it until later, but he sounded slightly jealous...

---

Friday was finally here. Friday afternoon, to be precise. It has been three or four days, depending on how you look at it, since my first fling with Wilson. And it has been about two hours since my last fling with Wilson. House had been a pain in the ass, as I predicted he would be. And of course, with House yapping, Foreman and Chase soon found out. Chase seemed to pout a little, though I couldn't understand why. He had his own girlfriend to look after. Foreman...I don't know. It seemed like he already knew. Then again, Foreman always was a bit like House. And if House figured it out, so could he.

I was surprised, however, that my stalker had yet to hurt him. I guess I spoke too soon…

I was at home, trying to figure out what outfit to wear to the stupid mandatory Valentine's thing (Honestly, why did I bother? Once I took a shower, my stalker would leave some pretty thing out for me. I guess I was trying to busy myself, really…), when I noticed a neatly folded sheet of paper. My heart skipped a beat as I walked over, almost automatically, and picked up the paper. Of course, it was from my stalker. One should've already guessed that much. But it wasn't written as neatly as normal. In fact, it was quite messy.

"Princess

I'm not at all happy with your new…"friend", shall we say? You asked me not to kill him and, of course, I must obey your wish. But by no means believe that this is an easy task for me to accomplish. I will do everything in my power not to kill him; however, may I note, you never said anything about harming him.

We shall meet at the dance, my Love.

Forever Yours"

Many thoughts crossed my mind at that very moment. Harm Wilson! Not kill, but harm! He'd hurt Wilson? But not kill him? That certainly couldn't end well. I might prefer him dead to whatever torture my stalker could, and probably would, put him through. And then, obviously…Meet. At. The. Dance.

Shit!

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Sorry it's so short, but this just seemed like the perfect place to stop!!! I mean, continuing it here would have been a crime! Or something...anyways, the last chapter was long, so yeah! Heh...don't kill me!! I should have another chapter out tomorrow night at the latest!

I also have another fic. It's a comedy, kind of, and only one chapter. I came up with it very randomly...and I might have another fic out soon. I have an idea, I just need to figure out whether to center it around Cameron or Thirteen. It's basically the same story either way, but the plots are soooo different. I want to do both, but I'm not sure. I might do the Cam one first, since the plot on it is more developed...


	11. Thoughts and Promises

I honestly was going to update Thursday like I said...but it just never happened...Though I did get my driver's liscense, finally!!

Thank you everyone who reviewed!! I love reading your reviews so much! They make me so happy! Keep 'em coming! I'll start individually replaying to reviews again sometime...

So, this chapter gets reeeally intense towards the end. Originally, it wasn't supposed to go like this...But it flowed so well. Definitely not one of my better chapters, but I hope you all enjoy it!

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I was correct in assuming he'd leave me a pretty dress after I showered, but I never assumed anything could be this gorgeous. It was Victorian styled, just as the nightgowns he'd leave me. It would look out of place, but that was okay.

It was long and black and had a lower neckline, but not too low. The sleeves poofed out right at my shoulders, but were formfitting all the way down to my forearm where a tuft of lilac fabric flowed loosely and ended at my knuckles. Deep purple gloves began right where the formfitting ended and covered my fingertips. They were matched by a deep purple corset that began right under my breasts and formed a V-shape where it ended at my hips. The dress poofed out of the corset and lilac lace was sown right where my knees would be. It continued down to my ankle where more lilac lace poked out. The shoes that accompanied the beautiful dress were white Victorian styled boots. A black choker was also there to complement the attire. It, too, contained the lilac lace sown at the top and bottom.

(Really Long Author's Note: I had a rough time describing this dress…but it's pretty much modeled after (or stolen from) the manga Godchild. It was worn by a chickie called Eliza in the chapter Lion Crest of Volume 2. If anyone reads Godchild, pick up volume 2, flip to near the end, and there's the dress she's wearing…if you don't read Godchild, well, good luck trying to decipher my horrid description…(AKA READ IT!))

It was a little gothic for my taste, true, but it was very beautiful. To go along with the dress was a make-up set with a note. The set contained everything I'd need. The note told me I was free to choose what type of make-up I wore. Since I was wearing such an elegant dress, I choose to go all out. Blush, eye shadow, foundation, lip stick, you name it, I probably put it on. Everything was in small amounts, of course. I didn't want to look like a slut or hoochie mama. Nor did I want to draw attention away to the natural beauty of the dress. So all the make-up I wore was in moderation.

The dance began at 5:30. So, being the early bird that I was, I left about 5 and arrive at 5:20. I was not the first one there, though. Naturally, Cuddy was there. She was the Dean, of course. And she looked quite beautiful in her flowy black, white, and pink dress. There were a few others as well. Some women in a variety of pink, purple, yellow, and white dresses. A well-known lesbian I knew as Doctor Shultz was wearing black slacks and a pink button up shirt, conversing with Cuddy. Somehow, I figured she'd be the only female wearing pants. A few men were also standing around. House was nowhere to be seen and I assumed I'd only see him at the end of the party. Or he'd show up in the middle, announce it to Cuddy, and leave.

I also failed to see Wilson. My heartbeat escalated. I had really hoped my stalker was bluffing and he never did take Wilson. If Wilson gets hurt because of me I'd never forgive myself. Maybe he would show up later. I doubted it.

And apparently, my stalker was to show up later, too. By now, my heart raced so fast I began to think I'd have a heart attack. Was I really about to find out who he was? Why show himself in such a crowded place? Then again, why not? It might just be so crowded, no one notices. Perfectly hidden amongst all the dancers.

---

It was almost seven and still no Wilson. I had danced with several people by now, but none had claimed to be my Prince. Cuddy caught me right as I was going to sit down. Another song began to play.

"Hey, there. How have you been so far?" She smiled at me. I shrugged.

"Okay, I guess. You?"

"Surprisingly, I've had a lot of fun. But I couldn't help noticing that Wilson hasn't showed up. Was he supposed to meet you here?"

"Oh, no. Sorry, he called me before I left and informed me he caught whatever it was I had a few days ago. His voice was almost gone, so I told him I'd tell you he couldn't make it. I guess it slipped my mind. I'm sorry." My story for not showing up four days ago had come in handy. I really hoped she wasn't as suspicious as House and believed me.

"Oh. Okay. It's fine. I just assumed he'd be here with you. You could have stayed home to take care of him. If you wanted to."

"Wait, what? I didn't have to come?" This was news to me…

"Yeah. You could have staye-" I cut her off before she could finish.

"House told me this was mandatory."

"For him, yes. For everyone else, no. He never goes to these fundraising events, so I told him he had no choice in the matter. I didn't think he'd make you go. Did you not want to come?"

"No, it's not that. I've just been under a lot of stress lately and I was hoping to spend this weekend sleeping. And Wilson's sick…I'm sorry." I sighed. Honestly, no, I did not want to be here. But I couldn't say that to Cuddy. It'd be rude. She grinned at me, though.

"How 'bout I make it up to you, okay. Dance with me once, and you can go home." I was a bit surprised. What was with everyone wanting to dance with me tonight? Maybe it was because I so rarely came to dances. I'd attend the parties all the time, but I'd normally skip anything that would have true dancing in it. I nodded nonetheless.

"Sounds fair. I'll take you up on that offer." I smiled at her we began dancing to some song I had heard a million times before, but never bothered to pay attention to the name. So it remained a nameless blur of words in my brain.

She smiled at me and pulled me closer. Then something occurred to me. Was she my stalker? Adrenalin raced through me as I considered the possibility. She's known me for a while, so she'd know quite a few of my likes and dislikes. She'd also know where I lived. But then, anyone who followed me would know that. She had access to the hospital so she could have set the McDonald's bag down at my spot. And it would explain why my stalker never minded me staying at work so late. Come to think of it, she always was there when I stayed late. I assumed it was because she was the Dean and was doing something else. But maybe, she was staying to watch me? She's single…Alot of stalkers are. Not all, but a lot. And she's athletic, so it would be quite simple for her to gain access to my house through an unlocked window. She also had a raspy voice that, when she whispered, could be either gender. Was it possible my stalker was right in front of me the whole time?

Was it possible that Doctor Lisa Cuddy was my stalker?

And, now that I think about it, I didn't hear much concern in her voice when she spoke of Wilson.

"Is something the matter, Alison?" This time, the concern in her voice was obvious. She looked at me worriedly.

"N-no. Not at all. I was just thinking about something." The possibility of Cuddy being my stalker made me somewhat frightened of her. Strangely and contradictorily, though, I also felt comforted. Maybe I was as screwed up as I constantly thought myself to be.

"What are you thinking about, Princess?"

"Wh-what?!" Did I just hear…?

"What are you thinking about?" She said once again.

"I was just thinking I liked the smell of your perfume. Did you just call me 'Princess?'" The two sentences were spoken so fast, I wondered if she understood them.

"Thank you, and no. I never called you princess. I just asked what you were thinking of. Are you okay? Have you been sleeping well?"

Heh, you would know.

"Not really." I decided to put her to the test. "You see, someone has been…admiring me from afar….sending me letters and buying me stuff. But I'm not sure who this person is. I'd like to know, so I can thank them. I thought it was Wilson, but I asked him and he informed me it wasn't. Would you might know who this person is?" I worded everything very carefully and watched her every reaction. If it wasn't her, I didn't want her to go to the police. If it was, well, I hoped she'd give me some hint.

"That's very sweet of them, but I have no idea. I'm sorry. If only they had the courage to ask you. Hmm, maybe they're shy." She smiled at me sadly. If it was her, she wasn't ready to tell me. Nor did she show any hints. I sighed.

"It's okay. And that might be it. I just wish I knew who it was."

"Have they been giving you any problems?" Her brows furrowed and she looked quite concerned. Either she was my stalker and she wanted my honest opinion of her, or she wasn't and she was trying to make sure I wasn't being stalked. Either way, I wasn't going to reveal just how much my Prince frightened me.

"No, no. Nothing like that. Eh, just don't worry about it. It's not an issue." I wanted to drop the subject now. I sort of wish I never brought it up.

"Do you think this person is me?"

"…What…?"

"Well? You've informed me of this and you've been watching me closely. Do you?" She sounded so calm. This song ended and another began. We continued gliding across the dance floor.

"Well, I thought. Maybe. I don't know. At this point, I don't know anything anymore. Can we talk about something else?" I couldn't think of a more polite way to change the subject.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. And I'm sorry for keeping you longer than I said I would. It's been one dance. Thank you."

She let me go and stepped back.

"It was fun dancing with you. You're now free to go home." She smiled and walked off.

Did I perhaps offend her? I wasn't sure, but I hoped not. Stalker or not, I am fond of Cuddy and I don't want to piss her off. Besides, innocent until proven guilty. Until I have proof she's my stalker, it's only an assumption and I can't act on it.

On my way out I ran into House. He was wearing the blue jeans and ACDC shirt he had on earlier today.

"So, you've finally showed up." I sighed and shook my head.

"Yep. HEY, CUDDY! I'M HERE!" He gave a half wave towards her and turned around. "And now I'm leaving. See ya." And with that, he limped out. I knew he was going to do that. How? He's House. He does things like this.

I arrived at my car and took note of how empty the parking lot was. I had really hoped Wilson would show up later. Obviously, he never did. Maybe he really is sick. I don't know, but whatever it was, he wasn't here.

And, unless Cuddy IS my stalker, I never saw HIM here. Or at least, knowingly. Could it be that he had danced with me and didn't reveal himself? Who knows? Right now, all I want to do is get home and sleep as long as I possibly can.

I was unlocking my car door when a pair of hands grabbed me. I tried to scream, but one of the hands wrapped itself tight around my throat while the other covered my mouth. The body that belongs to the hands pushed me hard against the car. I struggled hard, but it was no use. He was too big.

"Ello, dollie." The voice sounded British and the breath smelled like he'd never even heard of the word toothbrush. Where was House? I didn't leave but two or three minutes after him!

"Let me go!" I tried to scream it, but it came out more as muffles. The rough hands pushed me closer to the back seat door as he opened the front seat and then shoved me in. What was he planning to do to me? Was he going to rape me? At that thought, I tired to climb over to the other side of the car. He, however, had other plans. He grabbed my ankle and pulled me back. I tried to kick, but I couldn't. I had to get away! But how?

A very random thought popped into my brain right then. It was a bit comforting that this definitely wasn't my stalker. Aside from the obvious voice difference, my stalker treated me as his prized possession. If he were to rape me, he certainly wouldn't do it in my car after a dance.

He let go of my ankle long enough for me to kick back my foot. I did manage to hit him, but I couldn't tell where. I knew it wasn't the groin, unfortunately. He growled at me and I felt him climb into the car and close the door. He flipped me over and attempted to undress me. Thank God I wore an impossibly hard to take off dress. It gave me time to struggle further. This time I was able to knee him in the groin. He winced, but other than that, it didn't seem to faze him. He did backhand me though. The force of it almost knocked me out.

I was dizzy and my head now pulsed but I forced myself to look back at him. My eyes widened in fear at the silver blade in his hands. He smirked, as if he had just won title of World's Most Wanted. I shut my eyes tight as he brought the blade down. Oh God, was I going to die?!

No, it wasn't my time yet. He wasn't going to kill me, I realized as I heard the sharp rip of fabric. Tears streamed down my face as his hands groped me.

"Please, let me go!" Where was God when people actually required His help? This was one of many reasons I was an atheist. If there was a God and He cared about us as much as the Bible claimed he did, then why does He allow such horrid events to go on? I prefer to operate under the assumption that we've always been alone. It's better than thinking we've been abandon, or worse, He watches, but never helps.

"Scream all you want. No one will 'ear you." He sneered at me. I froze when he started undoing his own pants. I then struggled more than ever. I bit at him and scratched him several times. I trembled, sobbing, as the true event began. It was only seconds before I felt the blood trickle down my inner thigh. Rape: It's all about the power. If it were about the sex, a prostitute would be hired. He leaned down to lick my cheek, but I never gave him the chance. I was able to free one of my arms and I elbowed him hard in the face. Half naked and bleeding, I managed to slide to the other side of the car when I felt something hard and heavy thunk the back of my head. And then all was black…

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Yay, rape! Lovely little thing, huh? Descriptions may suck this chapter, so I'm quite sorry. Originally, some drunk guy was just gonna start flirting with her and ATTEMPT to rape her and her stalker was going to get possessive, kill him, and something having to do with chocolate (Coat his dead body in it, or a finger, and give it to Cam for Valentine's Day...). Wasn't sure how to do that, but it was a cool idea. But with Wilson disapearing, I thought it'd be too much for her stalker to take BOTH of them. So she was just going to go to the dance and go home. Then...this poped out. I swear, I don't control my fingers when I type. They type for themselves what they want to type!!

Oh and, ironically, I am a strong Christian (To an extent..), but I couldn't help playing off the fact that Cameron is an atheist. I don't know her reasons in the show or if they're even mentioned, but that's one of my takes on it. If I were an atheist, that'd probably be one of my reasons. Better to believe there's no God than a God who doesn't care.

So, as always, reviews make me really happy!!!


	12. Filthy

Hello! I was excited about the reviews and decided to be really nice and update soon! And as with the last chapter, I don't really like this too much. But then again, I have such low self esteem, I don't like anything I do...

So, anyways, I've never actually been raped before, so I might not have an accurate reaction. So I apologize if I have offended anyone for some reason...I tried to have her react as one would, but not react too violently. I don't know!

**RavennaNightwind**: Yay, I disturb you! Wait, is that a good thing or a bad thing? Hmmm...either way, yay! About the dress, the best I could find was fanart on Deviant Art. I couldn't find any manga scans, or anything. If I had a scanner, I'd scan the pic myself. But here's a link to the Devart pic:

http:// sheik231. deviantart. com /art / Eliza- 532 45 397

(Without any spaces.) This is esentially the dress with my small alterations. I really hope this helps you.

Thank you to everyone else who reviewed as well! I love your reviews and each one makes me smile or laugh in some weird way!

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Once again, I awoke with a massive migraine. It was becoming something of a habbit. But this time, I was not in my car. Or my room. Or the hospital. Or anywhere I was familiar with. I began to panic, but stopped myself. Panicking would get me nowhere.

First thing I noticed was that I was in no way, shape, or form bound. I also noticed I was wearing different clothes than I remembered. It was another nightgown, but this one was more poofy, more flowy, and certainly more modest. It started at my collar bone and ended at my ankles. It was long sleeved and had lots of lace on it. Aside from lace, though, it was a very plain lilac gown.

I also took notice of the bed I was on. It was huge and round and filled with large, comfortable blankets. The pillows were lilac and lacy, just as everything else my stalker loved. The obvious assumption: I was in my stalker's lair.

Great! Just great! I've been raped once by some mad man and now he's going to rape me. Maybe he'll kill me too. I hoped so.

I was still trembling from the night's previous events. Or, maybe it was last night. Or, well, who knows how long I've been here?

All but my hands froze as I saw a figure standing in the doorway. My hands shook even more than they had been. I couldn't estimate a height (he was slouched over) or even a gender (I still continued to assume male, though). All I saw was a silhouette with shoulder length shaggy hair. Certainly not Cuddy, unless she wore a wig. Or totally destroyed her hair since the last time I saw her.

"Do not fret, my dear." The whisper was soft and gentle and sounded very sad. It still gave no hints to gender. "I'm so sorry such events had to take place. I should have taken better care of you. I hope you could find it in your heart to forgive me." He sounded so sincere. It almost broke my heart.

"The r…" I couldn't even say the word. "This wasn't your fault." It really wasn't. However, whatever might happen to Wilson would be your fault.

"It WAS my fault. If I hadn't been so preoccupied with my sister, I could have saved you sooner." Sister?! Since when?! Well, now I knew something of my stalker. He/she had a sister. It definitely wasn't House, Wilson, Foreman, or Chase. I knew none of them had sisters. Wilson and Foreman had brothers, but not sisters. I was unsure if Cuddy had any siblings at all.

I decided to make conversation. Maybe I could stall him long enough to find a way out.

"You have a sister?"

"Yes. She's six years younger than I. Enough about me, though. I'm sure I bore you. How are you feeling?" Damn, I wanted to keep this going. Mainly to distract him, but I was curious about him, too.

"I feel nauseous. And my head hurts." I had no clue why, but I felt so…calm around him.

"That's to be expected. There's a glass on the table beside you. It contains a home made remedy my mother made for me when I was sick. Drink it. You'll feel better." I eyed him suspiciously. "I don't intend to harm you. Not after what that bastard did to you. I just want you to feel better."

I nodded and took a hold of the glass. I sniffed it. It smelled of herbs and water. Well, what have I got to loose? Already been raped once. And if he's gonna do it, I can't stop him now. I'm on his turf. I took a sip and it was surprisingly good. I then downed the rest.

"It's very good, is it not?" I nodded. It was. And I kind of wanted more…I heard a crashing noise and a yelp of pain. "I'm sorry. I must excuse myself now. You may leave whenever you please. The exit is over there." He pointed towards a door in the corner I had failed to see. He then bowed and headed out the door he had been standing in front of. "I'll be seeing you, Princess." I heard the door click shut and then locks being turned. I could leave, but not through that door.

I looked around. There were no photographs, no personal items of any type, nothing aside from the bed, two doors, and a window. Who was this person? And why was he stalking ME? Stalkers can be very random, just like serial killers. I could have reminded him of his mother, aunt, even his sister. Or I could have just been the third brunette to walk out of Wal-Mart; the fifth person to park in a certain spot; the first woman wearing a certain color. Who knew his reasonings? But I was curious. And I planned on finding out.

I gingerly rose from the bed. My entire body was sore and I really just wanted to soak in a bath. Damp locks of hair curled around my face as I moved, indicating I already had one. I wondered how I failed to notice this earlier.

I slowly forced myself to walk towards the door he had walked through and I pressed my ear to it. First, I heard nothing. Then another loud crash and a young female voice screaming sorry.

"Brother, are you okay?! I'm so sorry."

"Don't worry about it. I'll get it fixed." His was more muffled because he wasn't shouting, but I now definitely knew the gender of my stalker. Unless this girl called her sister brother. Some people do that. Just as an orphan boy might call his ten years older than him sister mom.

I continued listening for a few more minutes, but nothing else was said. Finally, I limped over to the other door and was quite shocked to find it unlocked. Honestly, I though he was screwing with my head, saying I could leave…But no, he was serious. Amazing.

I opened the door and found it led to an alley way. I exited the alley and discovered my car, parked on the edge of the sidewalk, right next to the house I was just in. On the bright side, I didn't have to walk home. But, just where was home? I'd never been here before…

I got into my car quickly, afraid something like before might happen if I dawdled. As soon as I shut the door, I wished I had walked home. The car was cleaned and nothing even hinted of what happened, but the memories were fresh in my mind. They replayed themselves vividly over and over and each time, I realized there was something more I could have done. I didn't fight as hard as I could have when he had me against the door, I could have screeched agonizingly loud those few moments he wasn't covering my mouth; I could have kneed him much harder than I did. All these thoughts, all the things I could have done, but didn't. I felt so dirty, as all people who had just been raped. And just like them, all I wanted now was to go home and scrub myself as clean as humanly possible.

No matter how wretched I felt, I was just another woman who had been raped. Nothing significant or special. It was such a common thing that it sickened me. The nausea I felt escalated and I pulled over to vomit.

There probably wasn't much evidence left, thanks to my stalker, of my rape and I never got a good look at the guy (He had long, graying hair and a scrabbly mustache; that's all I saw.), so I decided not to go to the police. Like I said, just another victim in just another crime.

Then a thought occurred to me. I had no clue how long I was out. He could have been raping me several minutes or several hours. The latter was improbable, but not impossible. And I had no clue where he was. Did my stalker kill him? Or did he get away? I didn't care either way. But actually, my thought was what if I was pregnant?

My hands started shaking at that thought and, once again, I had to pull over.

How did I feel about that? I mean, I have wanted kids, but I always wanted myself to be stable first. And I wanted to do it with someone I loved. I'm financially stable currently, but not mentally. I've got a freaking stalker right now! And that man certainly wasn't someone I knew, let alone loved.

If I was, though, I couldn't get an abortion. That wouldn't be right. The baby never asked for this; it's not its fault. But what would I do? I was getting way ahead of myself though…Way, way ahead.

I sat in my car and just waited, thinking about, well, everything. Eventually, a police car drove up. A man in uniform stepped out of his car and aimed a flashlight towards me. The light made me squint a little. He walked over and I rolled down my window.

"Everything alright, ma'am?" He eyed me, looked through my window to observe the inside of my car, and went back to eying me."

"Yes, sir. I just got a bit shaky and figured it wasn't safe for me to drive. So I pulled over."

"That's very responsible of you. But are you certain you're okay?"

"Yes. Thank you. I'll be fine." I gave him the sweetest, most sincere smile I could muster under the circumstances. And he just continued to eye me.

After a few more questions and handing him my driver's license, he finally left me alone. And a few minutes later, I felt well enough to drive again.

I arrived home and vomited once again.

After cleaning up, I checked my computer and found out I had only been away from home a few hours. It was now 1:30 A.M. Saturday. I then turned the shower on as hot as it would go and stripped out of the gown he had given me. I discovered that my abdomen had been wrapped in bandage. Upon undoing the bandages, I saw my lower abdomen had quite a few cuts and three bruises. I glanced at my arms and found bruises there, too. Especially on my wrists. How long did he have me?

I looked in the mirror and saw the hand shaped bruise along my throat as well as several bruises around my eyes and on my cheek. No wonder the police officer eyed me so long! I basically looked like I was used as someone's punching bag. Which, essentially, I was.

I stepped into the shower and allowed the scorching water to cleanse me. Just as so many others who had been raped, I began to scrub my body like it was the most vile thing ever. Right now, it seemed to be.

When spots on my body started bleeding, I decided I had scrubbed enough. I wrapped myself in a towel and headed out to my bedroom. As always, a nightgown lay waiting. But like the one I wore before, it was quite modest. Long sleeves and down to my ankles. I'd never know though; I didn't put it on. I allowed myself to plop on my bed and I curled up and cried.

Why? Why did so many horrid things happen to me? I knew my thinking was selfish, but what else could I do? I refused to let myself have another mental breakdown. So I just laid here and cried, the sobs heaving my body so much I thought I'd vomit again. I wished desperately Wilson was here. But he wasn't. Only the God I didn't believe in knew if he was okay, or even still alive.

Yes, he was still alive. I knew that. I asked my stalker not to kill him and I knew he'd keep his vow. No matter what he did, he wouldn't kill Wilson. So now my thoughts allowed me to wonder just how badly he was hurt.

Just when I was thinking I wouldn't get to sleep, warm, comforting arms wrapped around me. I tensed up, but soon relaxed. For a minute, I thought they belonged to Wilson. But when I heard soothing whispers, I knew exactly who it was.

"Shhh, my darling. Sleep now. I won't ever let that filthy pig harm you again. You're safe now."

Filthy? Pig? Yes, that's right. Then if I've been touched by that filthy pig, what does that make me?

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I really hope this doesn't suck as much to you as it does to me. And the last line was stolen from yet another manga called Angel Sanctuary. It's by the same chick who wrote Godchild, Kaori Yuki. I really did love the line and I thought it might be something an Emo!Cameron would think. Sorry if certain lines seem random or don't flow. I had a small case of writer's block during parts of this and due to one important question, I didn't want to type more than this. So my question is...

Should Cameron be pregnant? And if so, should she keep the baby, or miscarry. If she is,though, I'll most likely have her miscarry. Unless you prefer otherwise. But it's up to you guys! I want your opinions on the matter! Since this wasn't planned, I have no clue. And a pregnancy might ruin the story, or it could make it better. Depends on what you think. So review and tell me!

And speaking of pregnancy, I have another fic called The Untold Story of a Young Monkey that centers around Cameron and a child she finds. It will eventually be a Cameron/Cuddy fic, so those who don't like femmslash, beware. But I'm hoping people will like it. It's quite amusing and really needs reviews, since it's a chapter story...or will be one...(And that was your cue to go read it. Please! )

REVIEW! Yay!


	13. FortySeven Missed Calls

You guys have no idea just how sorry I am! It's been what? Two weeks? Three? I'm soooo sorry! I had MAJOR writer's block! It was killing me so bad! But now, I have made a decision! I know how this is going to end! And unless something different happens, everything from now to the end is in my head. Thanks to those who have reviewed and voted! I appreciate all your help!

And yes, I know, three weeks (give or take) and you get this horribly short chapter...I'm sorry, but this just seemed (once again) to be the perfect place to stop. My next update will be MUCH sooner since I've gotton over the block...I hope you enjoy this next chapter! I love you guys so much! (Thank you for putting up with me!)

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Another day. Another God damned day. I hate my life…

Although the light made itself known to me, I didn't budge. Everything was so sore. My arms, my head, and especially my legs.

My Prince was no where to be found.

I have no idea how long I just laid there, first staring at my dresser, then my ceiling, but it must have been a while. Myhands started to shake and my body felt sort of numb, indicating my blood sugar was low. I didn't want to move, but I needed food…

So, I forced myself out of bed, stood there for a second or two, and began a long, irritating walk downstairs. My legs throbbed with pain each step I took. But finally, miraculously, I was downstairs. I checked the pantry, the fridge, and the pantry again and found nothing I particularly wanted. But, as I said before, I really NEEDED to eat. So I decided on scrambled eggs and a peach.

Now, they say you should make a wish right before your first bite into a peach. I'm not sure where, but I had read about the wish thing. Or maybe May May said that. Who knows, but what the hell? The worst that happens is that it doesn't come true. But what was my wish? For Wilson to be okay? For all this shit to stop? To not be pregnant? TO be pregnant? What did I want? This took the longest time, but I finally settled on something I'd wanted to know for a while…

I wish I could find out who my stalker is…

And with that, I took a bite. I ended up finishingall of my breakfast. I smiled to myself. This pleased me. 

Now, do I go to work today, or not? It was already 10:38, so if I went, I'd be late. But should I be late or just miss? The responsible thing to dowould beto go. But I really didn't want to. I think I have a right to skip today. So I turned on the television and flipped to the news. Nothing caught my interest. 

Around noon, I remembered my cell phone. I'd bet anything House has called it to see where I was. And I'd have won that bet. Fort-seven missed calls and twenty-four voice messages, along with fifteen text messages. All the texts were from House except one, from Chase. Most of the messages were also House's. Surprisingly, the recorded voice of my boss sounded…worried?

The missed calls were from a variety of people. Some from House, some Cuddy, Chase, Foreman, and some were numbers I didn't know. I debated on calling back. I should. They sounded quite concerned. Cuddy even asked if I was okay. But I ultimately decided against it. I'd have to explain what happened (or make up some really elaborate lie that House will question) and I just don't want to do that yet…

So, instead of calling back my worried friends like I knew I should, I laid on my sofa, flipping channels, and allowed myself to focus on swirls and swirls of confusing thoughts.

Where was my life going to end up now? What was to happen next? Would I ever be okay? 

After finding no answers to these, I asked myself questions I could answer. Or, at least, try to answer.

Did I want to die? No.

Did I want to live? Contradictory, but still no.

Did I want revenge? God, yes. 

Did I want a child? Yes, but I wanted one under MUCH different circumstances…

Do I want one now? I debated. There were pros and cons. In the end, I decided I didn't want a child now. But if I was pregnant, I'd deal with it. 

How would I deal with it? I don't know. I wish I could tell Cuddy or Wilson or someone, but I don't want them knowing how dirty I am. I also don't want to worry them with such trivial problems…

Did I want to see some sort of therapist? I should. Talking about what happened is supposed to be helpful, but, again, I really didn't want to.

Were there any other questions I should answer? Not at the moment.

I sighed and curled up into a tight ball. I wish everything would just go away! I wish the pain was gone. I wish Wilson was here, safe and sound, holding me in his warm arms. Tears trickled down my cheeks as I thought of him. What was happening to him right now? Would he be okay?

Just as I was drifting off, my home phone rang. I let the answering machine get it.Chase's beautiful Australian accent filled the air now. But, his voice wasn't happy or perky like it normally was. It was filled with fear and anxiety.

"Cam, where are you! You need to get here now! We've been calling you for hours now, trying to find out if YOU were okay! But now we have a different problem. Wilson's just been brought in. He's hurt, Cam. Real bad. And he's asking for you."

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DUN, DUNN, DUUUNNNN!

I know, crappy, short chapter. But I really wanted to get inan update in for y'all. I felt really bad for leaving ya hanging like I did...But no matter how long it takes me to update, I'll never abandon the fic! (But, if for some ungodly reasonI do...I'll write it in the summery.) But unless something extreme happens to deter me, I shall forever continue this, if not for me, then for my very loyal and wonderful readers! Once again, I give you the utmost of thank-you's and I'm sorry's and I shall update again ASAP! 

Please review!


	14. Crazy

Sooo...hi...! Once again, I'm so deeply sor...ya know what? Screw formalities!

I'M SO SORRY!! PLEASE FORGIVE ME! i WUV YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR PUTTING UP WITH ALL MY LIES TO UPDATE QUICKLY!!

Ahehm! I really am sorry, though! I had this typed up like...Sunday...but I wasn't sure how to end it...And we've been have graduation tests this week, so I'm stressing a bit. I shouldn't, but I am. I really can not control the stress...sigh...

So, after getting a threat...I MEAN...precious review from **pastheart**, I decided it might be a nice thing to actually fulfill the promises I have made to you guys and UPDATE! Such a novel concept...But like I said, I really am sorry! No more promises, now...I honestly have no idea when I'll be able to update next, but I promise you, I will! (And I jsy said no more promises...) I'll TRY to update soon, but no promises..

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Wilson was in much worse condition than I could have imagined. His entire body was scarred up, but, amazingly, he had no broken bones. He also had prominent rope marks around his wrists, feet, and even his throat.

I stood there, still in the night gown I had on last night. (AN: I realized, after rereading the last two chaps, she never did put on the nightgown. Just…PRETEND that she woke up in it (Stalker put it on her in middle of night.) or she put it on sometime during the day…I totally forgot that. I feel SO stupid right now…) The second I heard Wilson's name on my answering machine, I had frozen, freaked and, at the end of the message, I just grabbed my keys and drove as fast as I legally could to the hospital.

"Is he gonna be okay?" Now, on a normal basis House would mock me for showing up in my PJs, especially PJs like the ones I'm currently wearing, long frilly sleeves, ankle length and frills at the bottom. Yes, he'd have a million and one things to say about that. But as it stood, his best friend currently laid in a hospital bed, cuts and small bruises lining his body, hanging on for dear life.

House said nothing. He didn't even acknowledge I had said something. Was he too focused on his thoughts? Or did he know I was to blame for his best friend's state? I felt tears welling up. I tried to hold them back. I couldn't cry; I didn't deserve to cry. This was MY fault after all. If I had just told him to go home that night, my stalker wouldn't have gotten over possessive and hurt him. I'm to blame. Me and only me.

"How are you doing?" Chase's melancholy voice brought me out of my pessimistic ramblings.

"I'm fine…why do you ask?" Chase looked slightly taken aback and then shrugged.

"No reason…" He had been alternating glances from the floor to me. It was then I realized I never did cover up the bruises that circled my face and the obvious one around my throat. I felt my cheeks turn pink and I ducked and ran off to the bathroom. I really just wanted to die right now…or crawl under a rock for the rest of eternity. That worked, too.

I cursed when I realized I left my purse at home. I had only grabbed my keys in the frenzy to see Wilson. How stupid WAS I? And the bruises were quite noticeable. One would have to not be looking at me to not see them. Damn!

And, go figure, Cuddy entered only a few minutes after I. Who is this sounding like?

"What happened to you?" She seemed truly genuine. I sighed and shook my head.

"Cameron, you and Wilson were dating. He disappears for a week. Then, he shows back up looking like he saw the wrong end of a whip or knife. And you weren't here at work until Chase left that message for you. Now you show up looking like YOU saw the wrong end of a fist. Did…something…happen?" She spoke the last sentence slowly and carefully. I stared at her in disbelief.

"Are you accusing me of something?" It seems trips to the bathroom in which people follow me shall never end in peace.

"Not yet..." She sighed. "No. I was just listing the facts. Add them up and..." Yet, she said! Can you believe that?

"What do YOU think happened?!" I couldn't believe she was actually! What nerve!

"I…I really don't know." She shook her head and just stared at me with her light blue eyes accusing me of a crime I WAS responsible for, but did NOT commit.

I just glared, forcing tears back. What the hell? It was too late now to cover the bruises. I'm sure anyone who matters to me has already seen them. Except House. I really didn't know if he had or not…Either way, someone was bound to inform him. So I made one last attempt to glare as furiously as ever at her, turned on my heel, and walked right on out of there.

Only I didn't. Not yet, anyways. Cuddy's slender hands had wrapped themselves around my wrist, my bad wrist, and I winced. It still hurt, even after all this time. Luckily, she didn't notice.

"Can you tell me what happened? I don't want to blame you if you're not the one who did this." The sadness in her voice compelled me to tell her everything. I was such a sucker for the ones I worked with. They really had become a second family to me. And, unfortunately, I felt as though I'd do anything for anyone of them. Probably why I had ended up sleeping with two of them. Heh, if I'm not careful, Cuddy just may be the third…

"It's none of your concern." She looked as if she was going to say something, but my icy stare stopped her. She let go of my arm and I wandered back over to the room Wilson was in. Thank God Cuddy knows when to stop. Wilson didn't…and look where it got him. Half dead in the intensive care unit.

I sighed and stood waiting, hoping against all hope he'd be okay. I felt a finger wipe under my eye and realized I had been crying. I looked up to see Chase.

"Don't worry, Allison. He'll be okay. He's a fighter." I knew he only said this to make me feel better. But it was comforting to hear my first name. He used to say it all the time, but when we stopped our little…game…he reverted back to my last name. Though he would occasionally shorten that to 'Cam' like he had done on my answering machine.

I nodded and sniffled. Chase was worried about where the bruises came from, but I knew he wouldn't ever accuse me of doing THAT to Wilson. He knew me better than that. I smiled sadly at him.

"Thanks." It came out more as a pathetic whimper, but he understood it either way.

"Do you have ANY idea whatsoever what could have happened to him?" His voice was serious, but not accusative. I had been debating on telling them for some time. When Cuddy asked me a few minutes ago, I really considered it. But I don't want to risk hurting them. So, instead, I shook my head no.

"If you don't mind me asking, what happened to you? You're covered in bruises…" I also considered telling them this, too. But how could I? How could I be that self centered when Wilson's the one laying there in the hospital bed? No need for them to be worried about me when they should focus on him.

"It's nothing. I…fell." I don't know if he believed me or not, but I was lucky he didn't hear me mumble, "Or something…" House heard though. And he looked straight at me. It was the first time he acknowledged my existence since I arrived at the hospital. His cold, stale blue eyes bore into me. I shifted uncomfortably and stared at the ground. After a few moments, I felt his gaze leave me. I glanced up and saw he had gone back to staring at Wilson. It pained me to think I was the cause of this.

Would House hate me if he knew? I'm almost certain he would. And so would everyone else. I'd hate myself, too. Of course, I already did. But there's not much I can do to punish myself. I was already incredibly thin, so starving myself was out of the question. Wilson had noticed the slash on my wrist, so I couldn't cut again. Unless it was my legs I cut. And I wasn't really a smoker, so no cigarette burns or anything...

But I really shouldn't do any of that stuff. In the past, it was how I'd punish myself for not getting straight As, or doing bad on a test, or getting mad at my mom or dad and yelling. And they found out about it. And I was sent to a shrink. I'm not supposed to physically punish myself; that's what my conscience is for. That's why I feel guilt. But I feel the need to so bad right now. This is my fault. I had hurt Wilson, indirectly, of course, but still. I was the reason he had been tortured. I deserved to be punished the way he was tortured.

"I'm so sorry, House." It was a murmur, but it was there. I could have sworn he glanced at me, but other than that, nothing. Tears flowed freely down my cheeks as I turned and headed out the door. I had hurt Wilson. I had hurt the one who comforted me. But worst of all, I had hurt House's one and only friend, his BEST friend, the only person I ever thought he was capable of loving. (AN: Yay, Hilson reference!!)

Upon arriving home, my knees gave out and I fell to the floor sobbing. It hurt that all this was happening, but why couldn't it all slow down?! It'd be easier, even just a SMALL amount, if everything would just slow and allow me time to catch up! I'm not sure if I want to continue wallowing in self pity for being stalked, raped, or the cause of Wilson's possible death OR if I should stop wallowing and start worrying about Wilson! I needed to prioritize everything.

But, honestly, out of everything that's happened, what WAS the worse? I guess what happened to my former lover. I do hope he's okay. He…should be. My stalker said he wouldn't kill Wilson, so, if I were to believe what he promised, Wilson should survive. But that doesn't change the fact that he's seriously injured and I'm responsible. Maybe I should tell someone. But I wouldn't DARE put someone else in this situation. Especially these people that I care so terribly much about.

So what to do now? I guess I could take a walk.

After a quick shower and changing into more clothes he left me, I began my walk outside. I was only February, but it felt so frigid. I've never been so cold in my life. Even three feet of snow and ice was warmer than this. Maybe the outside was reflecting how I felt on the inside. Cold, alone, like death was a truly wonderful thing. I smiled to myself as I thought about death.

Freedom.

But I was not ready to die. Not until I knew for sure if I was carrying another being inside me. If I was, I couldn't die. I had to take care of it. If not, though….well, that's another story. I really should stop thinking these morbid things.

Whatever happened to the perky, happy Allison everyone knew and loved?

Heh, I guess she died a while back.

Well, revive her! She's needed here, back in this world. She's needed to balance out Our personality! We can't be ALL pessimist!

Yes We can. We've done it before. We've been this way before…

But no one liked Us then, remember? No one wanted to be around Us.

I know. But We can survive being a total pessimist. Besides, why would anyone like Us now? We hurt Wilson. They all know that.

So? We…

Wait a minute…I'm talking to myself. THAT can't be a good sign! Maybe I DO need help. Well, a therapist helped when I was thirteen. And a therapist helped when I was seventeen. So why can't a therapist help now? Besides, I don't HAVE to tell this person EVERYTHING. I decide what to say and what not to say. And they won't push questions on me like my friends might.

So, I made my way back home, grabbed my purse and cell phone, and made a quick call. There was an opening in an hour and I could be there then.

There's a psychiatric ward at Princeton, but I can't allow myself to be seen there talking to a therapist. Especially not after what happened to Wilson. So, I chose a counselor about thirty minutes away. It was perfect that the appointment wasn't for an hour. Give me a chance to drive up there and maybe grab something to eat. And debate on what information to tell this person.

I had stopped and gotten a milkshake, drank half, tossed it, and arrived at a neat little building. I had been waiting about fifteen minutes when the receptionist called my name. I got up and was led into a little room. It was a quaint room with light blue walls, paler blue carpet, a wood desk with a black chair behind it, and a maroon sofa. There were plants lining the windowsills and a few toys scattered around the carpet. There was a picture of a sunset hanging on one wall and another of a beach opposite it.

I took a seat on the sofa, clasped my hands together in my lap, and waited patiently. A few minutes had passed when a woman with shoulder length black hair walked in. She wore blue jeans and a blue-violet sweater. A sweet smile greeted me as I looked up at her. I could tell she seemed worried about all my bruises, but I guess she tried not to think anything of them.

"Hello. My name is Kristen Thompson. You may call me whatever you prefer. May I ask your name?" I assumed she did this to make me feel more comfortable, because I'm almost positive my name was somewhere on that clipboard she held.

"Allison Cameron. You can go by whatever as well."

"Do you have a preference?"

"Nope." I shook my head to enforce this. Maybe I shouldn't have come here. I was starting to want to chicken out…

"So, what are you here for, Mrs. Cameron?"

"It's miss; I'm not married."

"Oh. I'm sorry. I'm not either, just so you know." I nodded slower than I normally would, debating on how I should start this.

"I guess I'm here because I really want to do something self destructive, but I know I shouldn't." She nodded, wrote something down, and smiled up at me.

"It's good that you know you shouldn't."

"Yes, well, I've been to therapy before for SI."

"If you don't mind me asking: When?"

"You can ask whatever you want. If I don't want to tell you, I won't. And I started when I was thirteen up until I was almost eighteen." Technically, I stopped going when I was fifteen, but at seventeen, I went on my own for a few months. But she didn't need to know that. Her pen then went to work. It always unnerved me when someone wrote down what I said. One of the reasons I had started pretending I was okay.

"Why did you go then?"

"My mom found out I had been slashing my arms up." I shrugged when I said this, but the memory made me sad. My mother was so worried about me. I had cut way too deep that time and wound up in the hospital for four days…

She nodded and looked up at me sadly.

"Why had you been doing that?"

"Same reason as most cutters. It relieved stress. But it also was punishment. Any time I hurt my mom, yelled at her, I'd hurt myself. If I got a bad grade, same thing. I'd also starve myself from time to time." I sighed. "I never did take to smoking though, so no cigarette burns. Mom was relieved when she learned that…" She nodded and took more notes. Sometimes, I wondered if therapist actually took notes, or if they just doodled.

"Why do you want to hurt yourself now?"

"One of my friends might die. And I'm responsible…" It was vague, but she'd ask me to elaborate if she wanted me to.

"What happened?" Her brow had furrowed. I guess she did want me to…

"We kinda slept together and my…boyfriend…got jealous." Obviously, I wasn't going to tell this woman I was being stalked, so I substituted boyfriend for stalker. My Prince would be so happy.

"Did he do that to you?" She was obviously referring to my bruises. What to say? I couldn't say yes. My stalker would not be happy if I said yes. But I couldn't tell her I was raped. She'd want to go to the police. Or maybe I could…But it could wait.

"No. I'll tell you about those later…" I sighed. I should talk about this. I needed to. But right now, I really just wanted to back out. "He got jealous and hurt my friend real bad. My friend was only trying to comfort me. I had…well…" I rolled up my sleeve and showed her the scar, then promptly rolled them back down. "And he noticed. He kept asking me about it. Finally, I went home. But he had followed me. And well, one thing led to another." Yet again, I shrugged.

"I see…" She made another note and looked back up at me, waiting for me to continue. I stayed silent. I waited for her to ask me another question. After a few minutes of silence, she coughed and began again. "About the bruises?"

I shrugged. How to start this? Did I even want to tell her? Not really…Did I need to? Yes.

"Well, I…" I paused. She just waited. It was her job to sit here and wait as long as we had time to talk. "You…can't go to the police. It's already too late anyways. And besides, my boyfriend took care of me."

"My God, what happened?"

"I….I had fallen down into a subway…" I totally chickened out. She wrote something down and gave me a skeptical look. It soon melted into a sympathetic one. She lifted her hand and moved it towards my arm. I pulled my arms close and squeezed my eyes shut.

"I thought so. You poor dear." I slowly opened one eye. Was I that obvious? Maybe I should be punished for my obviousness.

"It doesn't matter. I'm not the first one this has happened to. And I certainly won't be the last." Wow, such optimistic thoughts, Allison! God!

"Do you know if you're…"

"No." I cut her off. Now that she knew I felt so vulnerable. I know I'm the one who decided to come here (And dear God what was I thinking when I did?), but even still, I wasn't so sure how much I liked the thought of her knowing.

Despite that, it did feel better to finally tell someone. We began talking about other things too. I ended up staying there for five hours, just talking. I was lucky enough to be her last appointment for the day. We talked about my problems and what to do about them. She knew everything except I was being stalked. My stalker now fell under the title of 'boyfriend'.

At my persistence at needing to punish myself, she suggested the old rubber band trick. I informed her that this did absolutely nothing for me. She then told me to draw a red line on my wrist every time I felt the need. Still a no go. She tried a few more suggestions that my other therapists told me, none of which worked. I had stopped my bad habit because I felt bad for scaring my mom. Back then, I felt no punishment was worse than her being scared. And if I scared her, I'd have to hurt myself again. Which would only scare her further. So I eventually made myself stop. I pretended to be happy all the time. I focused more on school and getting good grades. I made friends with my teacher, since I was basically an outcast among my peers. That's how I stopped.

But now, so many things have happened. So much at once. It's hard to stay happy. It's so hard to even pretend. I tried to have someone to talk to and he ended up almost dead. I can't let that happen again. And I have told this woman nothing to put her in harm's way.

I hoped…

Maybe that visit WASN'T the best choice, but what else could I do?

I arrived home and plopped down on the bed; I was too tired to shower or change or anything but sleep.

I felt warm arms wrap around me and, despite myself, I smiled.

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So, even though it took me forever to update (Again...I REALLY should work on that...) at least y'all get a fairly long chapter! Yay! Even if I hate it. I didn't plan for it to go this way, but I needed something to happen before Wilson woke up. And therapy CAN be good for a person, IF they get a good therapist. Because, sometimes, so much builds up inside a person and they really CAN'T tell their friends. A therapist can't judge you and it doesn't matter if they do. Usually they're a stranger you'll only meet once or twice, or they HAVE to at least PRETEND to like you. It's their job to listen to your rablings. So, I thought it'd be good for Cameron to have someone to vent to. Even if she can't vent the WHOLE story...And we get to learn a bit more about MY verson of Cameron's past!

BTW, Kristen is my own character in an original story, but I thought it'd be cool to make her a therapist instead of a Lit teacher! And it's fun to put my wittle babies in this fic! And...it's a bit easier than coming up with a new name to remember if I have her make another appearance. If...I don't know if I will, though. If y'all like her maybe. Or if it's conveient.

So anyways! I hope you enjoyed this! Please review!! I'll TRY to update ASAP!


	15. Bouncy

Hey, everyone! Well, it has taken me forever and a day, but here's your update! I would have posted it this morning, but my internet was down...For which I was quite unhappy. And it was only MY internet! I checked my mail on my mom's computer, but myinternet just refused to work. But here it is now! This is mostly just inner narration, explaining the last two weeks. There's some dialogue and some House/Wilson hints. Yay, Hilson! I ship everything...haha. Yeah...

So, I'm not sure how many more chapters, but the fic is close to being done. Close meaning four or five or hell, even ten more chapters. I'm not completely sure how long it'll take, but it will be fairly soon. I am, however, very happy that everyone was so glad Cameron saw a therapist. To be honest, I wasn't sure how much y'all would like that. But as mentioned, she was close to self detonating. And that can't happen...YET! MWAHAHAHA!!

**RavennaNightwind**: It hasn't been a month! Unless I'm time-deaf or something...So I'm happy I can meet your qualifications! Yippie!

Thank you everyone for all your reviews! I wuv dem ever so much! So, hopefully, this won't be a disappointing chapter! And hopefully I'll have the next chapter out sometime soon! Much love!

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"Hey, Wilson! How are you feeling?" I smiled a greeting. It has been two weeks now and Wilson has recovered at a tremendous pace. He still can't talk very much; apparently 'whoever' had done this to him had had piano wire wrapped around his throat most of the time. My stalker allowed him to breathe, but barely, and it cut into him really bad. He had also been forced to swallow small amounts of bleach and other bases. And those will tear a person's throat to high heavens.

I, too, had been on a long road to recovery. And so far, I was doing well. House had known the moment he looked at me what had happened that night. He really could read me like a book. He confronted me the next day at work, where I had tried to deny that I had been raped, but he wouldn't let me go. Finally, after Chase got really pissed, I told them what happened. This pissed Chase off further…I also noticed the anger burning in House's deep blue eyes as well. I couldn't help the small smile that formed due to the worry of my beloved friends. No one went to the police, though. It had been an unspoken agreement that the guy was probably long gone by now and even if he wasn't, there wasn't much we could do now. They stuck by me, though, and provided moral support, for which I was grateful.

I hadn't felt a strong need to hurt myself since therapy (It's still there, but I ignore it…) and I have been eating a lot better now. After venting and my friends finding out what happened, I was able to go back to my bouncy, morally righteous self. Kind of. I wasn't totally back to normal, but it was as good as the circumstances allowed.

And, of course, there was my stalker. As ironic as it seemed, we had grown closer. I know he's the main cause of all my grief, but he's always there for me, too. He knows so much about me, things I can't tell the others. He spoils me rotten, too. And that's something I only got when I was seven and younger, before May was born. And I LOVED being spoiled. He gave me candies and chocolates and sometimes even made breakfast for me. He always had some cute outfit prepared for me. And he would occasionally leave me necklaces or bracelets. I'm sure House thought I had another boyfriend or something, but honestly, I didn't care what he thought.

But enough ramblings about the past two weeks.

Wilson smiled back at me and gave a small nod. It'd be nice if he could recover more quickly; it'd make me feel less guilty, but I was happy he was even recovering at all. Aside from the visits every now and then, though, I tried to keep my distance from him. I didn't want him to end up dead in the morning due to suffocation or worse, kidnapped once again to relive whatever torture he had been through already.

"You hungry? Thirsty?" I offered him a paper plate of eggs and bacon. I have worked at this hospital for years and if I've learned anything, the food is NOT the best one could eat. It IS better than most hospitals. Much better. But it still could use some work. So I've been making little things for Wilson to eat: Eggs, bacon, pancakes, toast, and merging into dinner foods, sometimes chicken and pasta, you know. I just want to help him a little bit. And since I'm not in charge of his care, all I can really do is say hi and bring him food.

He nodded and I sat down in one of the chairs. I then proceeded to feed him some scrambled eggs. Yes, he could eat on his own, but like I said, I want to help.

"You want water? Orange juice? Milk?" He had nodded at orange juice and I left to go grab a glass.

When I came back, House was sitting in the chair I had been in. Fork in one hand, plate in other, House had begun feeding his friend. The first time I saw this was a few days ago and I had dropped my glass at the sight. It shocked me. House wasn't normally that open. Of course, Wilson wasn't normally in immense pain due to being tortured by a psychopath. But, this being the third time I witnessed House's caring side, I smiled. I walked in, set the glass on the table, said good morning to House, and left. That was his time to be with Wilson. I had always believed House to be uncaring, but that was never true. He cared a great deal about Wilson. And I've been finding out these past two weeks, even if it's on a miniscule level, he does care for me.

And of course our patient, Celia. Turns out right before Wilson had been brought in, she was diagnosed with anthrax and in another few days, she'll be free to go. We have had two more patients since her and both were relatively simple to cure. So, the past two days, we've all been doing clinic duty. I grabbed a random clipboard from the stack and proceeded to exam room seven.

"Hello, my name's Doctor Cameron. I see your son has a rash." I walked into a room with a boy no older than ten and his mother who also looked quite young…and irritable.

"Yes and we've been waiting almost an hour in this room for a Doctor…House, was it?" Her son gave a nod. "Yes. Where is he?"

"I apologize." I mentally cursed House for making them wait so long and then leaving me to deal with them. "He's busy right now."

"Well, unbusy him! We came to THIS hospital just for that time irresponsible doctor!" This irritated me. Yes, House could be a bit more thoughtful when it came to patients. However, he was currently taking care of Wilson. And something I'd normally agree with turned into something that irked me quite a bit more than it should have.

"Listen, he's busy with a hurt friend that needs his help more than you. I am perfectly qualified to treat your son. With a rash, there isn't much House knows that I don't. Okay?" She looked taken aback. Then she glared. Then sighed. And finally, her gaze softened a bit.

"I'm sorry. I'd just rather not wait so long next time. Anyways, yes Tripp has a rash. He's had it about a week now. I thought it should be gone by now, but it's not. He has no other symptoms. No fever, no cough, not even headaches. Just a rash."

--

I leaned forward in my chair and sighed. I swear that mother was bipolar. She was pissed at first, then she realized it wasn't MY fault House was late. But after a few minutes, she decided to blame me again! I can't believe she came to the hospital and didn't think we'd want to run tests on her son. 'You're not running tests on him like he's some animal!' Yeah? Well, that's the only way we'll know for certain what's wrong with him. God, some people are so…so…stupid? I don't know. I'm just as much of an idiot as she, only for completely different reasons.

I sighed. I can't get depressed again…Not now. I've been doing so much better!

But, as always when I let the depression overcome me, my mind trailed back to that fateful question: Was I Pregnant?

I COULD go ahead and get a test done. It's been quite some time since…

But I'm afraid of the answer. It's almost literally a life or death answer. I mean, I haven't completely decided if I was gonna off myself if I'm not. But it's still a possibility. One House would yell at me for if he knew I was contemplating it.

I couldn't help it, though! What's one supposed to do? Go on with life as if nothing happened?

I sighed again. Yes. So many other women forced themselves to continue on with their lives, ignoring the pain they went through. But so many do choose the easy way out. And for once in my life, I want the easy choice.

But did I really?

I glanced at my wrist and smiled quite the morbid smile.

"Don't even think about it." I was startled by the deep, caring voice. I though I was alone. But no. There, in the doorway, stood Foreman.

"Think about what?" Pretending I had no idea what he was talking about wouldn't work, I knew, but it was the only thing I could think to say.

"You know." He gave me a stern, protective older brother look. I sighed.

"I wasn't going to…there's no harm in just imagining."

"There is. You start thinking about it. Then, as you keep thinking, it seems like a better idea. So one day, you just…try it. And you have no idea how many people would be devastated if you did." Tears welled up in my eyes. Who would really, though? Sure, they'd all be sad if I did. They'd even cry, maybe even feel like there's no hope for them (That was more for May…), but they'd move on with their lives. Everyone does when someone they love dies. Death is a natural thing. When someone dies, you mourn, go to a funeral, mourn some more, and move on. They'd do the same for me. But I didn't dare say that out loud, especially not to Forman.

"What do you know?" It was the only thing I could think of that didn't sound rude or get me sent to the psych ward in a straight jacket.

"A lot more than you think I do." I wondered and, even though it wasn't any of my business, I asked.

"Did you..?"

"No. Not me. My brother's girlfriend. Despite being my brother's girl, she confided in me. Told me everything she felt. She had scars up and down her thin arms. One day, she couldn't handle life anymore. She told me. She always told me that though, so I thought nothing of it. Until I saw the ambulance rushing from her house. I still haven't been able to forgive myself. And, in a lot of ways, you remind me of her. That's why I worry about you. I won't let you end up like her." I felt guilty, I really did. So I wiped my eyes and nodded.

"I'm so sorry."

"Don't be. Just promise me you won't ever take your own life. No matter how tempting it may be." I forced a comforting smile. I can't make any promises, but I'd certainly try.

* * *

I hope y'all enjoyed that chapter! It's kind of short, I know. But hey, it's an update. And I've got more to come! One day...heh heh.

So, as always, please review!!


	16. Manic

Hello, everyone! This is quite a short chapter, but at least it's an update. This is just showing the progression of Cameron's opinions of her stalker. She, umm...might be going a bit...shall we say, nutty? Yes, we shall. And there's much more to come! Poor doll is spiraling out into insanity. But more on that later!

Since I only got three reviews, I have decided to comment on all three! And I did notice, all three of you liked the conversation with Foreman! I'm glad. I was kind of iffy about it at first, but I'm happy about how it turned out.

**RavennaNightwind**: I love you...I love you so much, I wanna strangle you. Yes, I meant everyONE. Such a smarty pants. Tsk, tsk, tsk. Heh, but anyways, I love getting your reviews, even when you are being a smarty pants. And yes, I'm a rabid Hilson fan, so, even though I doubt they'll get together in this fic, I love putting hints in here. 'Tis so much fun!

**cryingblacktears**: Hellos! Yes, I have noticed Foreman is very much neglected and forgotton on FF. I think he has like a total of 5 pages dedicated to him! Poor thing! But if you like Foreman, go read my newest fic Innocent Days. (Will probably be renamed once I think of a better title.) (Oh yes, hinthintcoughcough) He's not a MAJOR part of it, but he's very much in it. (hinthintcoughcoughHACK) I am such an attention whore. And shamelessly so.

**ShaileeSue**: Yep! And the people who care about her really care! And that might prove to be troublesome for poor Allison Cameron!

* * *

My eyes closed peacefully as I allowed my body to slide into the scorching hot bath. Another week it has been and still no period. I know I could get a test done, but I'm not ready for that yet. I don't know if I could handle a definite answer. I'll let another week go by before I consider forcing myself to get a test done.

But, God, what a week it's been. Nothing major has happened, no. But I have to say it's been one of the best weeks in a long time.

Wilson will be out of the hospital in two or three more days. He's recovered at an amazing rate.

As for that kid who came in earlier: Poison Ivy. He was fine.

And our little team has gone back to the normal routine. Patient comes in, we guess what's wrong, House says no to some and tells us to test for others, patient almost dies, but right before he does, House figures out what's wrong and cures him. We've had another case like that. And more clinic duty. Clinic duty is quite boring.

Also, I took my sister out for another shopping trip. She was ecstatic that I invited her instead of her inviting me. She was even more ecstatic when I informed her I'd buy whatever she wanted. We even got a few things for Mom and Dad.

But what really made me happy was that my stalker apologized to me for hurting Wilson. I don't know why that would make me so happy, but it did. He's not sorry for actually harming Wilson, but he is sorry for the distress it caused me. This, for some reason, made me even happier.

I sighed. Was I going insane? I got giddy that someone who was stalking me was worried he might have hurt me. Did that make one demented, or just starved for attention? Or what? Only God would know…But since I don't believe in Him, I guess no one does.

I leaned back to rest my head on the side of the bathtub, only I didn't feel the bathtub, but in fact, a body. I jumped and turned my head to see who it was, but warm hands covered my eyes. My heart hammered against my chest.

"It's okay. It's only me." The voice I heard should have scared me further. But it didn't. Just the opposite. And I smiled. It was small, but it was a smile.

"And what might you be doing here?" My voice came out as a cracked whisper.

"I was just thinking of you. And you seemed lonely. So I thought I could pay you a visit."

"Well, it would have been nice if you waited until I was out of the bath. Pervert." I giggled, despite myself. He pressed his lips to my cheek and I felt him smile. I sighed and leaned back into his embrace.

We stayed like that for an hour before sleep overcame me. I really was loosing my mind.

--

Once again, I was in the roomy office that we usually diagnosed people in. I was here to make coffee and then I'd head out and grab a random file for more clinic duty. As I waited for the coffee, I began twirling my amathyst necklace around. I closed my eyes, smiled, and hummed a little tune.

"How have you been, Cam?" Chase's voice brought me out of my little sing song world. He looked tired. And slightly concerned.

"Perfectly fine. Why do you ask?"

"No reason. Can't a guy ask how his coworker has been without her wondering why?" His tone was defensive.

"Yeah, but it just seems kind of random. That's all." I grinned at him, hoping that he'd see I was just messing with him.

"Sorry I snapped. I didn't sleep much last night."

"It's fine." My smile faded slightly. "What happened last night?"

"Nothing...Bad dream. But anyways." He forced a smile at me and I grinned back.

"So, are you two gonna make out or just keep making googly eyes at each other?" I smiled in slight irritation and turned to face my someday former boss.

"Good morning to you, too, House."

"No, no. Don't let me interrupt such a touching moment of ew-ness."

"Ew-ness. That's a new one for the dictionary."

"Hey, if Potter chick can make up new words, so can the rest of society. But let it be known, my words will ru--"

"Yeah, yeah. I was just leaving, House. Go talk to Wilson about world domination. I'm sure he won't mind listening." Still grinning, I turned to leave.

"Wait, Cam?"

"Yes?" I turned to face my Australian companion.

"Why are you so happy?"

"What do you mean?" I giggled. "Isn't me being happy a good thing? Wouldn't you rather I be happy than mopey and depressed?"

"Yes, but. It's just..." He struggled to find a good word. "Concerning..?"

"I haven't a clue what you mean. But you needn't worry about me. This past week has done a wonderful job cheering me up!"

And with a smile on my face, I walked out, grabbed a file, and proceeded to room two-fifteen.

* * *

So, whatcha think? I know it's shorter than normal, (or maybe this IS normal length, since I seem to have a lot of short chapters...) but like I said, it's a progression chapter to show Cameron's slowly deteriorating sanity.

So reviews are aboslutly amazing and very much welcomed!!

Oh, and I figured out something really cool a couple days ago. Jennifer Morrison's middle name is Marie. And in my fic, so is Cameron's. Just so you know, that was totally unintentional! And so very much awesome!


	17. Depressive

Hello, everyone! I'm terribly sorry about the long awaited next chapter! I have been meaning to update for so long. Once again, I have that horrid thing called writer's block. I know HOW I want the fic to end, I just don't know how to GET there...And this is causing me a lot of problems...sigh.

This is a very short chapter, and I apologize for that. But writer's block literally struck me right near the very end. I really wanted to update, so I just forced myself to type a few more lines and now I'm posting it...I'm soooooo sorry that it's not uberly awesome or anything.

I also think that next chapter MIGHT be the last chapter of this fic. I had previously stated that it was nearing the end and I think that will be next chapter. I know basically how it's going to go; typing it out is the challenge, though. But if anyone has any input, feel free to send it in. I adore each and every one of you for keeping up with this fanfic up through 17 chapters! And special thanks to all of my reviewers! I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH!

* * *

"You're WHAT?!"

"Pregnant." I could feel their intense gazes, six eyes burning holes into my skin. My eyes had been glued to floor ever since the words 'I have to tell y'all something.'

"Are you sure?" I chanced a glance and went straight back to the floor. I felt my head nod, forward then backward.

"I even had a test done here. As well as three other hospitals." The results had terminated my joyful mood. I was now much more serene. Not necessarily calm, per say, but I was neither happy nor depressed. I really didn't know what I was. It's almost safe to say, I didn't care.

I shrugged and stood up.

"Do we have a new patient, or are we still on clinic duty?"

"Come on, Al. We should talk about this." I stared straight into the blue eyes of my blond friend.

"What's to talk about? I'm pregnant. End of story."

"No. Not end of story. Are you okay? How are dealing with this? Do you have any clues about the future?"

"Chase, stop. I'm fine. I had plenty of time to ponder what I'd do if I found out I was pregnant. I don't know about the future. No one does. And since I haven't a clue who the father is, I won't know what to do until the time comes. Plus, I doubt any of you want a kid. I'm sure you don't mind helping me raise it, though. Or I may just be assuming that. Which, in that case, forget what I just said. One way or another, I'll deal with this myself."

"Cam, we're your friends. We want to help y-"

"No new patient! Still clinic work. I had a potential patient, but he was cured within the first fifteen minutes of his arrival." I glanced a 'Thank You' at House and wandered out of the office.

Another month of depression had gone on until my friends finally snapped me out of it. It really wasn't that difficult, after they got past the irritating "How are you dealing?" crap, they cheered me up real quick. Chase even made a cute attempt at baking brownies for me. They tasted horrible, but I ate a few anyways. They were special. But House would not stop teasing him about it. And Chase would pretend to be angry when House teased him. I think they did this because it made me laugh.

Foreman also brought me brownies, but his were so much better than Chase's. And House found fun in that, too. Tease Foreman for making brownies and Chase because he can't.

Cuddy also helped me a lot. She took me shopping for baby clothes. We got some generic outfits, since we didn't know the gender of the baby. We picked out towels and blankets and stuffed animals and anything we could find that'd be perfect for a baby. It actually was a lot of fun.

I, once again, was able to be happy through all the misery. I did have a few bouts of depression. But they'd either run their course and I'd be happy again the next day, or House and the others would say something to cheer me up. They were very good at that.

My stalker was also very supportive. He bought a few things for me. We would have late night conversations, too. We didn't talk about much, though he did assure me he was going to take care of me and the baby.

Everything seemed to be going okay again. I had been depressed at first, but as always, my friends were able to cheer me up. They were all there for me. And I knew they'd be there no matter what. But no one could predict the tragedy that lay ahead.

* * *

Once again, I'm sooo sorry for the horribly long wait and the horribly short chapter! I hope you can find it in your hearts to forgive me! (I'm sure you will; after all, y'all looove me, right? Right...?) Heh heh. I hope this wasn't too disappointing. And sorry about the cliffie, but I couldn't think of any other way to end it...And cliffies are the spawn of evil! MWAHAHA!

Anyways, reviews are most definitely welcome!


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